


You're My Shining Star

by Frozenlove



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eric is a student, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rehabilitation, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-08-28 18:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16728639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frozenlove/pseuds/Frozenlove
Summary: Eric Dier is a student searching for a job and a new place to live because his lease has been terminated. Dele Allie was the rising star of Tottenham Hotspur and the English National Team when he suffers a bad injury that might end his career. What will happen when they meet because Eric has agreed to nurse him within the next months? Will Dele give up his grumpy attitude and open up to Eric?Or the football AU where Dele is an injured footballer while Eric is a student who's secretly dreaming of a career as a singer.





	1. Eric needs a job

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I came up with a few days ago. I'm not sure that it's worth to be continued, but the first chapter was fun to write, so I decided to post it anyway. <3

It was the typical office of an employment agency, with a withered palm tree pining away in one corner, and a small window that was so stained that the actually rather bright sunlight had a hard time with shining at least partly through the milky glass and illuminating the stuffy room. Dust particles were dancing in the gaudy yellow light coming the neon lamp that was hanging over the huge desk that filled most of the small office, and the air was sticky and smelled of cold cigarette smoke and the cabbage the cafeteria was probably offering as lunch today.

One wall of the office was occupied with cabinets that reached from the ceiling down to the ground, and the wallpaper on the free walls must once have been white but were now yellow like the teeth and nails of Mrs. Miller, the job adviser that would hopefully be able to help Eric with finding a job that would grant him a regular income during his last year at university.

Mrs. Miller had small pale-blue eyes and short grayish hair, and she had this disillusioned and resigned look on her angular face that came with the many years of struggles and frustration she was probably facing in her job every day.

Eric hoped that he would never adopt this look, at least not because of a boring job, and he averted his eyes from Mrs. Miller to stare down at the thick file lying on the desk before her. The dark wood of the desk top was scratchy and stained like everything else in this office, and he just wanted to make fast work of his appointment and leave this truly depressing place again.

Mrs. Miller peered at him from over her reading glasses, and her fingers flexed as if she wanted to reach for the package with cigarettes she probably kept in one of the drawers of her desk. “Hmm, your case is difficult, Mr. Dier. You don't have an education as a nurse, nor have you any experiences when it comes to nursing handicapped people. But I might perhaps have a job for you because you wouldn't be responsible for the medical treatments and parts of this job, more for the daily business like cooking, cleaning and washing and such things. You would have to help them with their personal hygiene though, but you look as if you're strong enough to be able to do that, and you don't look like one who'd have personal issues with helping someone to take a shower. But I have to warn you, the last three nurses gave up within two weeks.”

Eric sat up straighter, not willing to let his doubts and discomfort show. “You really have a job for me?” he asked, sounding far too eager of course, and Mrs. Miller's lips twitched into something akin to a smile. It was as resigned as Mrs. Miller's entire appearance, but it was at least a smile, so Eric thought that this job couldn't be too bad.

“Indeed. It would also solve your problems with your flat because this job requires that you live at their place and be available at night.”

Eric lived in a flat together with two fellow students, but their landlord had abrogated their lease to the next month, and Eric had to find a new place where he could live quickly, which was pretty hard in London, even more for a student who didn't have much money. Eric was currently writing his master thesis in business administration, and one of his classmates had suggested to contact Mrs. Miller's employment bureau and ask for a job that would include a small apartment or a room until Eric was finished with his studies and could afford the rent for a flat on his own. He didn't have to attend more than two or three classes at the moment, and he could lend the books he needed for his thesis to write his thesis at another place than the library.

Nursing someone had not been what Eric had had in mind when he had entered Mrs. Miller's office, but he was desperate enough to give it a try if it only solved his problems at least temporarily.

Mrs. Miller observed him thoughtfully before she glanced down at the file. “He's a young man, two years younger than you are, and he was one of our rising football stars before an accident ended his career when it had just begun.”

Eric was too busied to really be into football, and he didn't know many of the current or future football stars, but he put on a polite and sympathetic face. “That sounds horrible,” he offered, and Mrs. Miller nodded and pressed her thin lips to an even thinner line. “It is, believe me, Mr. Dier. Dele Alli broke his left ankle, his shinbone and his calfbone, all of them really complicated fractures that forced him into a wheelchair for the foreseeable future. He needed several surgeries and will probably need two or three more surgeries within the next months. His club is paying for his surgeries, the rehab and the treatments, and they're seeing to him in every possible way because they're really taking good care of their players, but the nurses they hired quit their jobs because Mr. Alli is a... difficult patient and convalescent. Mr. Pochettino, Mr. Alli's trainer, contacted me and asked me for help three days ago when the last male nurse had just quit the job after barely more than a week. One of Mr. Alli's friends and colleagues is helping out at the moment, but we need a more permanent solution over the next months. “

Mrs. Miller went silent, and Eric simply looked at her as he struggled to process what he'd just heard. So there was a young footballer who'd suffered a severe and probably career-ending injury he would have to tend to over the next months, and this Mr. Alli seemed to be a 'difficult' character and deter all his carers away. Eric wasn't really sure that he was the right person to nurse a young footballer who most likely used his nurses as a valve for his anger and grief about his destroyed career, at least if he'd understood what Mrs. Miller had hinted at without actually saying it. But he really needed to find a job and a new flat any time soon, and this might be the only chance he would get, so he forced himself to nod and smile at the oldish lady still watching him silently.

“I see. I would like to give it a try, Mrs. Miller. I have lived in a living community over the last three years, and I know how to cook healthy meals and clean a flat, and I'm sure that I'll be able to learn the necessary things that come with this job quickly. When can I make Mr. Alli's acquaintance and talk about the contract with him?”

Mrs. Miller bared her teeth to a smile, and Eric was reminded of a cat that had trapped a mouse in a corner to play with it before having it as the its next dinner, but he swallowed down his doubts and smiled back until his jaw hurt.

“Perfect, Mr. Dier, just perfect. We'll fix the contract right away, and you can drive to Mr. Alli's house when we're finished,” she almost purred, and Eric got the impression that she was secretly rubbing her hands and literally drooling, probably because she'd been promised a generous commission in case that she would be successful and find someone who was stupid or desperate enough to accept the job.

“Wonderful, Mrs. Miller, let's set up the contract then,” Eric said nevertheless, hoping that he wasn't about just to sign his death sentence.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Eric pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder again and pressed the button of the door bell before he would get cold feet and just turn around to run away again, ignoring the queasy feeling in his stomach.

It took some time until footsteps announced the arrival of someone who would hopefully open the door for him, and Eric put on the most charming smile he was capable of. The salary he would get for this job was generous enough to ignore any possible rude demeanor coming from Mr. Alli's side, and Eric really needed a place to stay if he didn't want to sleep on a park bench for the next months. He grabbed the case with his guitar tighter and draw in a deep breath to ready himself for the next crucial minutes of his first meeting with Mr. Alli.

The young man opening the door was of course not Mr. Alli himself as his future patient was sitting in a wheelchair according to Mrs. Miller's words and because Eric had heard footsteps in the hallway before the door had been opened, but if he was the friend who'd volunteered to help until a new caregiver was found, then Eric needed to leave a first good impression on this friend as well.

Eric didn't follow the yellow press or the sports news on a regular basis, but even he had seen some pictures of England's new favorite footballer and recognized Harry Kane instantly, feeling intimidated and insecure all of a sudden. He really hadn't thought that Harry Kane of all people was the one to take care of Mr. Alli until the next nurse's arrival, and he found himself staring at the famous sportsman with a rather stupid expression for a few seconds.

“Ah, you must be Mr. Dier! Mrs. Miller announced your soon arrival. I'm Harry, please come in!” Harry Kane said with a smile, reaching out his hand to offer it to Eric. Eric took it, snapping his mouth shut and flushing deep red.

“Uhm, hello Mr. Kane... yes, I'm Eric Dier, and I'm pleased to meet you,” he stuttered, and Harry's eyes twinkled when his friendly smile deepened. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Dier, and please call me Harry. Dele's like a brother to me, and we're not that formal.”

“Thank you... it's Eric then?” Eric felt pretty much overwhelmed and almost shocked, and he blinked several times to clear his vision. “Is that all you have?” Harry pointed at Eric's rather small bag, and Eric nodded and blinked again. “Yes, I thought it better to bring the rest of my stuff after meeting Mr. Alli...” he murmured, and Harry pursed his lips.

“I see. Mrs. Miller warned you then. Dele is actually a wonderful person, but he's going through hard times as you can imagine, and it's really not easy for him. He's still in great pain, especially during the nights, and he's always trying to be tough, but it's hard. The last nurses were all at least twice as old as he is, and they didn't even try to understand him and how much he's suffering, physically and mentally. I'm glad that Mrs. Miller found someone at our age. He really needs someone much younger to keep him company and talk to him.”

“She said that I wouldn't be responsible for the medical part,” Eric drawled, raising his voice to an almost question at the end of his sentence, “I've never done this before. I'm studying business administration and I'm currently writing my master thesis, but I've never been responsible for someone who needs medical care...”

Harry nodded, taking Eric's bag and gesturing to another door opposite the entrance, not without darting a curious glance at Eric's guitar case. “That's right. Dele's wearing a splint to stabilize his leg and his ankle, and he has physiotherapy and rehab every day, but you're only supposed to drive him there, not to treat him yourself. Putting on the splint is not that difficult and something you'll learn quickly. The only thing you'll need to have an eye upon will be that he's taking his painkillers if the pain's getting too much. Dele hates them, and he refuses to take his meds, even though they would help him to get some hours of undisturbed sleep,” Harry explained as he set off to cross the hallway that was bigger than the room in the living community where Eric lived was, and Eric followed him with a spinning mind and his heart beating in his throat because of his nervousness.

“Delboy, I'm back!” Harry shouted when he pushed the other door open, and Erik's gaze fell upon a slumped figure sitting in a wheelchair before the glass door that led into a beautiful garden. The living room was larger than any other living room Eric had ever seen, and it was bright and friendly – opposite to the expression on the young man's face who must be Dele Alli.

He watched them coming closer with a sore face, and the corners of his lips followed gravity and pointed downwards with obvious anger.

“H, what took you so long to open the door? Did you just talk about me behind my back?” Eric's new employer groused – or was it Mrs. Miller that was his employer or Mr. Alli's club Tottenham Hotspur? Eric was really confused, and he wished that he'd read his contract more carefully to know who would be the one firing him if Mr. Alli wasn't content with his work.

Harry looked unfazed by his friend's angry accusation, and he walked over to him to ruffle his hair and smile at him, dropping Eric's bag by the coffee table. “Of course not, Delboy. I told Eric that you're the nicest guy in London and that he's totally lucky because you will praise everything he's gonna cook for you after the garbage Mr. Smith served as breakfast and dinner. No wonder that you've become so grumpy after what he's offered you as healthy meals.”

Harry glanced back at Eric who was still standing near the entrance, ready to turn around and run back where he'd just come from. “You do know how to cook, Eric, don't you?” he then asked, rolling his eyes when Eric didn't move and just stared back and forth between him and Mr. Alli. “Oh, come over here, man, our Delboy won't bite you.”

“Yes, I know how to cook. I've spent my teenage years in Portugal, and the Portuguese cuisine is healthy and tasty,” Eric said, finally walking across the room to offer his hand to Mr. Alli with a cautious smile. “Hello, Mr. Alli. I'm Eric Dier, and I'm pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Dele Alli tilted his head to the side and looked up at him with a frown. “No, you're not. You're just here because of the large amount of money they're offering you if you keep up with me and endure my moods. They all just come because of the money and because they can say that they've wiped the arse of a footballer then, swaggering that they've shaken hands with Harry Kane when they meet their friends in a pub.” He folded his arms across his chest and challenged Eric with his eyes, and Eric didn't know what to say for a moment, but he kept his hand stretched out, even though he felt really stupid.

“You're right that I really need the money and the room that was offered together with the job because my landlord terminated our lease, but I agreed to this job before I knew how much money I would get, and I'm not that much into football and didn't know who you are before I came here.” Eric darted an apologetic look at Harry before he focused on Mr. Alli again, still offering his hand to him. “Besides, I'm here to cook for you and help you washing and so on, but I really hope that I won't have to wipe your... backside, Mr. Alli, I don't think that this is part of my contract,” he drawled, hoping that he hadn't just dug his own grave and lost his new job before he'd even had the chance to prove himself.

There was a moment of dead silence before Harry threw his head back and started to laugh, shaking his head and wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. “Eric, I really like you! You're the right one to keep up with Del, I'm sure!” He put his hands on his hips and looked down at Mr. Alli with a strict face. “Stop pouting Del and say hello to Eric. You two really deserve each other, and you will have fun together, that much is clear.”

Mr. Alli didn't look convinced, but he sighed after a reproachful glance at his friend, finally taking Eric's hand to shake it. His handshake was firm and his skin was warm and soft, and Eric felt a strange tingling in his stomach all of a sudden. Dele Alli had beautiful eyes when he didn't look angry and grumpy, and Eric found himself smiling at him.

“Hello Eric,” he mumbled, still a little defiant, “you can call me Dele, H will only tell me off if you keep calling me 'Mr. Alli'.”

“Hello Dele,” Eric said, resisting the urge to touch his hand where he could still feel the warmth of Dele's fingers. It was really not a clever thing to do to fall for his new employer right after meeting him, but something was drawing him to the young footballer, especially in this moment when Dele's grumpy mask slipped for the blink of an eye and he looked so young and crestfallen like he did when Eric took a step back from his wheelchair and straightened his shoulders.

“Okay, I'll give you a chance, Eric. You can't be much worse than Mr. Smith, Mr. Brown and Miss Tumble have been, and Portuguese cuisine actually sounds like a nice change. The last dish Mr. Smith cooked for me was oily fish with burnt chips.”

“Uh, that sounds horrible. I love fish, but not when it's still swimming in a puddle of oil,” Eric agreed, and Dele's lips twitched upwards for a split second. “H, would you please help me before showing Eric around? I'm tired and want to lie down for a bit.”

“Of course, Delboy.” Harry smiled at Eric. “I'll be back in a second, Eric. Dele is sleeping next door in one of the guestrooms for the time being because of the stairs.”

Eric nodded, watching Harry push the wheelchair out of the living room and disappearing in the hallway. At least he hadn't been fired right away again, and perhaps he and Dele would learn to get along and work together. He finally allowed himself to take a closer look around and make himself familiar with his new temporary home while he waited for Harry to come back and show him the rest of the house, and the soft tingling he'd felt when Dele had shaken his hand became stronger when he thought of Dele Alli's beautiful eyes.

“Don't fuck this up, Eric Dier, just don't fuck it up,” he murmured to himself, thinking that this day would hopefully end much better than it had started, and that going to Mrs. Miller's office might have been his best decision in a very long time.


	2. Eric's new home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric has met Dele and Harry in Dele's house, and Harry is showing Eric around while Dele's taking a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love for the first chapter, I hope that you will like this one too!

The room where Eric would hopefully spend the next weeks and months was a little bit smaller than the room in the living community was where he'd lived for the last three years, but it was big enough that his few belongings would fit in, and the surprisingly large bed looked much more comfortable than his old one. The furniture was of high quality, and Eric was sure that he would be fine and be able to settle in quickly. Eric thought that the room for the nurses must have been the second guest room on the ground floor, and he wondered briefly how many guest rooms one needed when he followed Harry upstairs to see the rest of the house.

“There are three bedrooms on the first floor, Del's actual bedroom and two more guestrooms,” Harry explained as he opened the first door to the left. Eric took a quick curious glance around, murmuring the first thing that came into his mind. “Mr. Alli likes to have guests, doesn't he? Four guestrooms and a sleeping couch in the living room, there's room for quite a lot of guests.”

“Dele,” corrected Harry automatically, his hand hovering over the door handle for a moment. “He did, yes.” he said after a minute or so, his voice too quiet to deliver any emotion. “It's become difficult since his accident, and he prefers to be alone now.”

Eric's spontaneous reaction was to answer with a phrase like 'I can imagine!' or something like that, but he bit down on his bottom lip before the words could slip. He actually could neither imagine nor comprehend what Dele Alli was going through since the day he'd become injured, and Eric didn't want to pretend that he knew what it felt like to have his hopes and dreams crushed like that within a few minutes and come across as an insensitive person. He only nodded quietly, earning a brief look from the famous footballer in return. Harry Kane's glance was a mixture of respect and relief that Eric didn't try to play the role of the understanding friend who knew exactly how Dele – and probably Harry as well – felt, and Eric thought that Dele's former nurses had probably done that without knowing anything at all, making stupid comments far too often.

Harry observed him for a few seconds longer before he turned to the next door to open it. “This is Dele's bedroom. He's still keeping most of his clothes here in his wardrobe, and not in the guestroom.” Eric nodded again, and he hesitantly entered the large and bright room when Harry looked expectantly at him. He felt like an intruder, but this was not the time for acting shy and having reservations. He needed to know where Dele was keeping his clothes and the things he needed, and it was better that Harry showed him where he would find everything instead of having to do that himself and intrude on Dele's privacy more than he would have to do as his nurse anyway.

Harry followed him into the room silently, and Eric listened very carefully when he showed him the wardrobe and the chest of drawers with Dele's clothes. Eric avoided looking at the bed and the bedside table next to it as best as he could, and he flinched with a start when Harry cleared his throat next to him.

“Dele has a cleaner. Susan comes two times a week, and she's really great. But Del has always cleaned his bedroom and his own bathroom himself. I'm here every day anyway, so if you don't feel comfortable with doing that for him, then I will do the cleaning.”

Eric chewed on his lip again. “This is not about what I'd feel comfortable with, but what would be best for Mr. Al... Dele, right? I don't mind the cleaning, but he's just met me, and he doesn't know me at all so far. If he doesn't want his cleaner to tidy his bedroom and his personal bath, someone he knows better and longer than me, then how will he feel about me cleaning his bedroom, at least at the beginning, that is?”

Harry's eyes flashed with respect again. “You're right, Eric. This is all about what's best for Del. I'll ask him about this, and then we can decide how to handle this in the future.”

Eric nodded gratefully, and the rest of the 'sightseeing' went by without any further disturbance. Harry showed him the bathroom that belonged to Dele's bedroom, the second guestroom and the bathroom that lay in the middle between the two guestrooms, connecting them. There was a small office on the first floor as well, but Dele used it as a storage room mostly, and Eric heaved a relieved sigh when they went downstairs again.

“I could do with some tea, what about you?” Harry turned around on the last stair to look up at Eric, and Eric smiled gratefully. “Some tea would be great. My head is spinning from all of this...” he admitted, and Harry laughed. “Yes, I can imagine. But it's not as complicated as it seems to be. As I said before, Susan is responsible for the cleaning and most of the laundry, your job is to take care of our Delboy and keep him company.”

They entered the kitchen, a bright and modern room that invited to spend time here and cook delicious meals. Eric loved cooking, and he didn't hesitate to open the cupboards and the fridge to look inside while Harry busied himself with making tea for both of them.

“Do you have a car, Eric?” Harry asked when they were seated at the table, and Eric softly blew over his mug to cool the shimmering liquid. “No, but I have a driving license. A friend of mine lends me his car now and then. I hope that I can get it to bring the rest of my stuff here. I don't have much, but it's too much for the metro.”

“I'll help you with your belongings, that's not a problem, Eric.” Harry sipped from his tea, and Eric blushed. “That's a nice offer, but you really don't have to. You're surely busied, and I have to warn you. My friends are much more into football than I am, they wouldn't let such a chance go to the waste. One of England's most famous footballers helping me with my move? That's something they won't keep to themselves but tell all of our friends.”

Harry laughed again. “No problem. I'd like to meet your friends, I think I will like them if they are like you.” He became serious again. “Dele is like a brother to me, and his well-being is my only concern. If I can help him by helping you, then I'll do that gladly. I will be there to help you through the first days anyway. Dele's last carer thought that he didn't need any help, and it went all wrong. We can do the shopping together when Del's is doing his rehab, and there are some of his favorite shops close by where you can go in case that you need something for his meals.”

“Thank you, Harry, I'd really be grateful for your help. I'm good at cooking, cleaning and everything that belongs to the daily routine, but I've never nursed anybody, let alone a young man who is my size and sitting in a wheelchair.” Eric thought it better to be honest and tell Harry about his issues, and Harry didn't look as if he minded his honesty.

“Dele was not allowed to put weight on his injured leg for a couple of months because it could've led to another fracture or other serious damage if something had happened, but the docs told him that he could finally start trying to walk with crutches in his house a few weeks ago.” Harry stared down at his mug with a sigh.

“He tried one time, but his leg gave up under him and he fell down, and Dele refused to try it again ever since then. It's difficult even when he's doing his rehab, and he doesn't make as good progress as everyone thought or hoped that he would do. Sometimes I think that he's just given up because he heard one of the docs saying that the chances that he can ever play football on a professional level again are rather small. Del's lost his faith in himself, and I fear that he's slowly developing a severe depression because of this damn accident.  
He refuses to take his meds that would ease the pain and help him sleep, and he's lost his appetite. Mr. Smith's 'cooking skills' were the last straw to make everything worse, and Dele also fears that he will put on too much weight if he eats normal portions now that he can't play football any longer. But his rehab is really straining, and he would need all of his strength for it. He's lost weight, but he doesn't want to see the truth and work on his recovery.”

Eric needed a few minutes to digest what Harry Kane had just told him, and he held his mug with both hands because he felt cold all of a sudden. Dele was so young, and he'd lost everything that was important to him because of this horrible accident. Eric mused how he would feel if he became injured and couldn't play guitar any longer, and the mere thought made cold shivers run along his back.

“What about your teammates and friends? Can't they help him?” he wanted to know, and Harry shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture. “They want to, but Del doesn't want to see them. I'm the only one he's letting come near him, and not as close as we once were. It wasn't really helpful that his first three nurses were so much older and didn't know what to do when they were done with preparing his meals and washing him. Mr. Smith left him alone in the kitchen and went back to his own room to have pizza there and watch TV...”

Eric let out an annoyed snarl, and Harry raised his head in surprise, a small smile tugging at his mouth when he saw the expression on Eric's face. “I'm glad that you agree with me, Eric. Dele didn't seem to care, but I was furious, and it's hard to tell what he's thinking these days.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Eric took a deep breath. “What about a stair lift? Have you ever thought about it? I mean, the guestrooms are all nice, but wouldn't he feel much more comfortable in his own bedroom, at least at night?”

“I don't recommend you to ever mention a stair lift. I did, and Del ignored me for five days. He didn't talk to me, and he didn't answer my calls or messages until I got the chance to catch him and apologize to him, promising him that I would never even think of these two words again.”

“Uh, thanks for the advice,” Eric drawled, rubbing his temples to ease the pain that was throbbing there. “Anything else I need to know if I don't want to lose my job right away again?”

“Yes, don't talk about football with him, please.”

Eric shrugged. “As I said, I'm not much into football, so this won't be a problem for me.”

Harry stood up to cross the kitchen and put his empty mug into the sink. “Dele will have another sleepless night if I don't wake him up now, and I need to show you how you'll have to handle the wheelchair and help him getting into it and out of it again,” he said, and Eric followed him with a lump in his throat and sweaty hands, hoping that he would learn the things he needed to know quickly enough not to make a big and mistake and cause more damage to Dele than the accident had already caused.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Delboy? You need to wake up.” Harry had sat down on the edge of the bed, while Eric was standing one or two meters away because he still felt insecure and didn't want to do anything wrong. Dele's long dark lashes fluttered when he slowly came back to his senses again, and he still looked exhausted and disorientated for a moment.

“H?” he croaked out, and Harry stroked over his cheek. “Yes, it's me, Delboy. You won't sleep tonight if you don't get up now.”

Dele frowned and tried to pull the cover back over his shoulder. “I don't care,” he groused, but Harry took the blanket and pulled it away with a determined look on his face. “But I care, and so does Eric. I promised him to show him everything he needs to know, and you'll be a good boy and cooperate at least once, Del!”

“Tell him that he can go again. I don't want him to be here.” Dele buried his face in his pillow, and Eric exchanged a quick glance with Harry.

“I fear that you'll have to tell me that yourself, Dele. If you really want me to go, then I'll leave you again. I'm sure that Mrs. Miller will find another Mr. Smith for you, there were a lot of people waiting outside when I left her office, most of them twice my age, but maybe that's what you want? Someone who's showing you pictures of their grandchildren all of the time and watching romantic love stories on TV with you?” Eric knew that he was risking a lot, but if Dele really didn't want him as his new carer, then Eric wouldn't waste both of their time for nothing. He needed a job and a new home, and he was tired of seeing his hopes crashed again and again.

Dele mumbled something unintelligible, but he turned his head a bit to peek up at him with one eye. “That's extortion!” he accused Eric, but Eric only shrugged his shoulders. “No, it's the simple truth. You need help, and I need a job, and I don't see why this shouldn't work – if you're reasonable enough to really give us a try.”

“It's easy for you to say that!” Dele grumbled, sounding like a defiant child, but Eric saw the defeated and hopeless look in his shaded eyes, and his heart ached for him. He came closer to crouch down before the bed and look Dele straight in his eyes. It was one of those sick beds Eric knew from the few hospital visits he'd made in his life, and he thought that it was no wonder that Dele had problems with sleeping peacefully for an entire night in this bed.

“I won't tell you that I know how you feel, because I don't. I can't even begin to imagine how you feel and what you have to endure, and I won't pretend that I do and fob you off with some meaningless phrases. I want to be honest with you: I really need this job because I'll be homeless if I don't find another place to live any time soon, and I'm scared to death that I'll do something wrong and hurt you even more. But I promise you that I'll do my very best to nurse you and help you, and I would be grateful if you were willing to give me a real chance. I won't pity you or tell you that you'll be fine again one day, that's nothing I'm really good at. But I'm good at cooking and doing stuff like cleaning, laundry and so on, and my friends always told me that I'm someone they like to have around, so I can't be that bad at keeping someone company. What do you think, Dele? Do you want to give me a chance? A real chance, I mean?”

They stared at each other for a moment, and Eric was grateful that Harry didn't try to interfere and just sat there, waiting for Dele to make up his mind and agree to his proposal. Eric hadn't realized that he'd been holding his breath until his vision started to blur when Dele finally nodded his head.

“It's not that I have much of a choice here anyway,” he drawled with a sigh. “You can't be so much worse than Mr. Smith was, so yes, why not?”

“Thank you, Dele. I'll do my best to make sure that you won't regret it,” Eric said, and Dele pursed his lips. “We'll see, Eric, we'll see.” But he didn't object when Harry explained Eric how to put his hands under Dele's arms to help him sitting upright, and he even wrapped his arms around Eric's neck when he carefully lifted him up to put him into his wheelchair. Eric was sweating by the time Harry was done with his instructions, but it had gone much better than he'd feared that it would, and he felt a little bit proud when he pushed the chair through the corridor to bring Dele back to the living room.

Eric didn't think that they were already out of the woods, but a start was made, and with Harry's help he would learn what he needed to know to nurse Dele, and this was all he cared about at the moment.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Harry had left them a while ago, and Eric was finally alone with Dele for the first time. Harry had given him his private number before he'd left for a late training session, and Eric had saved it as one of his speed dial numbers, musing briefly about the astonishing fact that he was one of the few people knowing Harry Kane's private number now.

Only a few hours ago, he'd entered Mrs. Miller's office to ask for a job, and here he stood in Dele Alli's kitchen, having a job, a new temporary home and knowing two of England's most famous footballers personally. His head was still spinning when his eyes traveled over the contents of Dele's fridge, and Eric hoped that cooking dinner would help him to calm down again. Harry had promised to come back the next day and help Eric with his belongings and with the shopping for the next days, and he'd insisted on Eric calling him at any time of the day if he would need his help, even by night if necessary.

The fridge was filled with a lot of healthy and delicious food, and Eric had a hard time choosing what he wanted to serve as his first dinner for Dele. He finally opted for a salad with roasted chicken, turning around to look at Dele.

The latter was staring out of the window with a lost look on his face, sitting in his wheelchair with slumped shoulders before the table, and Eric wanted to say something encouraging but decided against it. He'd promised not to bother Dele with meaningless phrases about his recovery or his feelings, and he would keep his promise and not tell him that everything would be fine again.

“Would a salad be okay with you?” he simply asked, and Dele pulled his shoulders upwards as if he was freezing. “I think so. Mrs. Smith never asked me what I wanted to eat, he served either oily fish or mushy noodles with tomato sauce.”

“Uh, really? No wonder that you skipped dinner so many times.” Eric suppressed a shudder of disgust and started to prepare the chicken. He could feel Dele's eyes on his back when he averted his gaze from the window to look at Eric instead.

“Harry and you talked about me while I was sleeping.” Dele's voice gave nothing away, and Eric wasn't sure whether or not he was pissed off with him. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder and meet Dele's shaded eyes. “Of course we did, Dele. He told me what I need to know to take care of you, and he told me that you haven't eaten much lately. Harry really cares about you, and he's deeply worried about you, Dele. He asked me to help you as best as I can and to make sure that you will eat properly and take your meds. It's hard for him to see you in pain.”

Dele blinked as if he hadn't expected this honest answer. “Oh.” was all he murmured, staring at the shimmering top of the kitchen table with vacant eyes. Eric looked down at his dark curls, and a sudden idea crossed his mind.

“I could do with some help, you know. Would you mind chopping the tomatoes for our salad?”

Dele's head snapped up, and he regarded Eric with a strange expression on his face. “You want me to chop the tomatoes?” he asked back, and Eric nodded his head and walked over to the kitchen table to put the tomatoes, a knife and a wooden cutting board before Dele's wheelchair. “Why not? You know how to cook, don't you?”

Dele's jaw worked, and he looked down at the tomatoes with a frown. “I'm just...” he swallowed, and his voice was hoarse when he corrected himself. “I _was_ just a stupid footballer. Footballers always order pizza and junk food because they're too lazy to cook, and they're getting drunk and partying all night long when they're not playing football. They only pretend to work, because running a few rounds on the pitch is no real work at all.”

“And that told you who?” Eric inquired curiously, raising his hand to keep Dele from replying to his rhetorical question. “No, lemme guess. It was Mr. Smith, right?”

Dele shook his head, and the first real smile appeared on his face. It was just for a split second, but Eric had seen it nevertheless. “No, that was Mrs. Tumble.”

“I see.” Eric took the knife to offer it to Dele. “I don't know footballers or other sportsmen, I only know you and Harry, and I've just met you today, so I can't say much about footballers in general and their way of life. But from what I've found in your fridge and considering what you two told me about your experiences with your former nurses, I think I can say for sure that you know how to cook and prefer healthy meals over junk food. Pizza is great of course, and we can make our own pizza one day if you like to, real good pizza with all your favorites, what do you think?”

Dele looked back and forth between Eric and the knife he was still holding. “It's been a long time since I had self-made pizza, that would be a nice change, I guess. Okay, I'll cut the tomatoes, it's definitely better than just sit here and watch you doing all the work.”

“I hoped that you would say that. I'm pretty hungry, and we'll be faster this way.” Eric admitted with a hidden contented smile that his plan had worked out, and Dele took the knife and started to cut the tomatoes. He was soon immersed in his task, and Eric watched him for a moment before he went back to the counter to roast the chicken and wash the lettuce he'd found in the fridge. The silence between them was comfortable now, and Eric started to hum his favorite pop song after a while without even noticing it. It took him some time to notice that Dele was humming as well, and he shot a quick look over his shoulder because he feared that his ears were only playing tricks at him.

Dele was still cutting the tomatoes, and the lines of pain around his eyes were thinner and smaller. The corners of his mouth didn't point downwards any longer, and his eyes weren't as shaded and dull as they had been for the entire afternoon. He was humming a little bit out of tune, but Eric could have listened to him for the rest of the evening happily and without any complaint, so grateful about the small positive change in Dele's look that he didn't mind the few false tones at all.


	3. Dinner with Dele

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric and Dele have their first self-made dinner together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some time to write, the next chapter will take a while longer because of work. This chapter is all about Eric and Dele getting to know each other a little bit better, I hope you'll like it. <3

Eric observed his dish one last time before he put the plate on the table before Dele with a smile. He'd arranged the lettuce, the tomatoes and the cucumbers on the plate in a hopefully appealing way, with some sweet peppers and corn in the middle of the plate. He'd cut the roasted chicken in small pieces and stripes and spread them on top of the salad, together with some cheese, and he'd decided to offer the dressing in an extra bowl. This way Dele could decide if and how much dressing he wanted for his salad. He put several slices of bread on a smaller plate and went back to the table to put it on top of it as well, pausing in the middle of his motion when he found Dele staring down at his plate with a strange expression on his face.

Dele had cut the cucumbers after the tomatoes, and he'd looked much more relaxed than he'd looked before they had started to make dinner together, but now something seemed to be wrong, and Eric didn't know what he'd done to make Dele look like that.

“Is something wrong with the salad, Dele?” he asked, and Dele looked up at him. “No. It's just... I can't remember the last time someone has made such a dinner for me. I prefer my salad with only little dressing, but most people I know just pour it all over the plate or into the bowl until the lettuce is drowning in it. Harry was great, but he's neglected his family and his training for my sake far too often lately, and I didn't want to bother him with some special wishes how I like my meals or what kind of food I prefer.”

Eric's first urge was to lay his hand on Dele's shoulder, but he suppressed it and just smiled at him. “I'm glad then that I did it right. I prefer salad dressing or meat sauce in an extra bowl myself, therefore you'll never have to fear that I will drown your food in dressing or sauce.” His gaze wandered to the empty chair someone had pushed to the side and against the wall to make room for the wheelchair. “What do you think of sitting on a kitchen chair for dinner? It would be more comfortable for you to eat without the armrests being in the way all of the time, wouldn't it?”

Dele frowned as if the thought of sitting on a normal chair instead of using his wheelchair during his meals had never crossed his mind until this minute. “The splint should protect your leg properly, and I can look for something to put under your foot if you want to.” Eric hoped that he hadn't just said something really stupid, but Dele's face lit up, and he nodded slowly.

“I want to give it a try, Eric,” he said almost eagerly, and Eric's heart started to beat faster when he looked into Dele's beautiful eyes. “Okay, let's try it.” He pulled Dele's wheelchair out of the way to move the kitchen chair back before the table, leaving enough space for Dele to sit down on it without any problems. Dele wrapped his arms around Eric's neck when Eric lifted him up as gently as he was able to, carefully lowering him down onto the seat. Dele's warmth seeped through his shirt, and his aftershave tickled Eric's nose. He swallowed and blinked in irritation as he tried to remind himself that he had to stay professional, and that Dele would surely not appreciate it if Eric overstepped the line and came too close to him in a way nurses shouldn't do.

Dele exhaled a shaky sigh, and he clung to Eric's shoulders for a few seconds, struggling to keep his balance and find a comfortable position on the smaller chair. Eric's nose brushed against Dele's clean-shaven cheek, and his heart made a flip when Dele's scent hit him with full force.

“You okay?” Eric asked to break the spell that had fallen over him all of a sudden, and Dele's cheek grazed his nose for a second time when he nodded his head with a small uncertain chuckle. “Yes, I think so? It's just been so long since I've sat somewhere else than in my wheelchair or on my hospital bed.”

“You'll tell me if it's getting painful or uncomfortable for you, okay?” Eric asked, stepping back when Dele released him from his bent position as he almost reluctantly removed his arms from Eric's neck. Eric at least thought that Dele was reluctant to let go of him because he grabbed his shoulders for a moment before he straightened his back and put his hands on the table. “I will,” Dele promised, and Eric stepped behind his chair to push it a little bit closer to the table. “Can you lift your leg a bit? I want to move your chair,” he said, and Dele put his weight on his uninjured foot to shift his weight and make it easier for Eric.

They were both sweating by the time Eric was content with Dele's position, but Dele's cheeks weren't as pale as they had been any longer, and his eyes sparkled with newly revived spirits. He looked down at his plate and licked over his lips, and Eric found himself staring at the rosy tip of Dele's tongue.

“I think I'm actually hungry,” Dele said, and Eric thought that this was the nicest thing someone had said to him in a very long time.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Tell me something about yourself!” Dele demanded a few minutes later when they were both sitting at the table and enjoying their dinner. Dele was sipping from his water, looking expectantly at Eric as he waited for his new nurse to tell him more about himself.

Eric didn't make the mistake of shrugging his shoulders and objecting, saying that Dele's life as a famous footballer must be much more interesting, and he chewed his bite quickly and swallowed it down to answer to Dele's question.

“I'm studying business administration. I'm working on my thesis at the moment, and I hope that I'll finish my studies next year. I need to attend two or three classes this semester, but this shouldn't be a problem as Harry told me that you're doing your rehab during the time I have to be at school.”

Dele impaled another piece of tomato with his fork. “Do you like your studies? Business administration doesn't sound really fascinating to me.” he asked curiously, and Eric put his own fork down to think about it for a moment. “It's okay. Business administration is far more interesting than people would usually think, but I mostly chose it because it's something where I'll hopefully always find a good job rather easily.” He hesitated, unsure if he should really tell Dele about his secret wish, but maybe it would help him to win Dele's trust if he shared his thoughts and dreams with him, giving him something to take his mind off of his injury.

“I've always dreamed of becoming a singer when I was younger,” he said quietly, forcing himself to meet Dele's attentive gaze, even though he felt heat creeping up in his face. “But that's just a foolish dream, and studying business economics is not so bad actually.” Dele regarded him thoughtfully, and Eric felt stupid that he'd blurted out his childhood dream just like that. Only few of his friends knew about his wish and his passion for writing songs, and he hoped that Dele wouldn't mock him for his confession.

“A singer, wow. I would like to hear you sing one day, Eric,” Dele mused after a moment of heavy silence, and he didn't sound mocking, only wistful and a little bit sad. “Would you sing something for me?”

Eric swallowed. “If you really want that, of course. In a couple of days perhaps?”

Dele nodded, and his brief smile was understanding that Eric didn't want to sing for him right on their first evening together. “That would be nice. Have you ever participated in song contests or anything like that?”

Eric shook his head, taking another bite from his salad to buy himself some more time. “Not really. Back then in school when I was still living in Portugal, but never since I moved back to England. There never seemed to be the right time or chance, and I was busied with my studies over the last three years. I'd thought about maybe putting something on YouTube, but...” his voice trailed off, and Eric was grateful that Dele didn't push him but changed the topic instead.

“If you're half as good at singing as you're at cooking, then you must be really good. This is delicious,” he offered Eric a way out of their talk about his secret dream to become a singer, and Eric smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you. I want to cook some Portuguese dishes for you over the next days and weeks, but I need to do some shopping for that beforehand. You eat fish, don't you? In general, I mean.”

Dele pulled a face. “I've always liked fish, but Mr. Smith changed that.”

“My fish won't be oily or mushy, scout's honor!”

Dele pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, but then he grinned. “I think I'll give you a chance to prove your words to be right,” he said, and Eric returned his smile and thought that Dele had the most beautiful eyes he'd ever looked into, especially when they were sparkling with mischief like they did now.

“I won't disappoint you,” he promised with greatest sincerity, and Dele bit down on his lip and looked down on his plate. “I'm glad that you went to Mrs. Miller's office today, Eric,” he admitted, his voice only a quiet murmur, and Eric's heart made another happy flip. “I'm glad that I went there today too, Dele,” he said, hoping that Dele would still feel that way when the first week of Eric's new job as his nurse was over.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The rest of their dinner had gone by in companionable silence, and Eric felt ridiculously happy when Dele's plate was almost empty by the time he got up to clean the table and wash the plates and glasses they had used. Dele had a dishwater machine, but Eric was so used to this kind of task from the living community that he didn't even think of filling the dishwater machine instead. Helping Dele to change seats and sit in his wheelchair again was much easier because Eric knew how and where to grab and hold him now, and Dele took the dish towel to dry the plates, glasses and bowls as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Eric accepted his help without arguing that this job was too straining for him, although Dele looked tired and as if he was in pain after the long day.

Harry had shown him where Dele kept the small box with his painkillers in one of his cupboards, and he decided that it was the right time to bring this delicate topic up when Dele handed him the clean and dried pan back to put it back in the cupboard with the other pans and pots.

“What about your meds, Dele?” he asked, offering the box on his palm to him. “Harry told me that you don't like them, but you look as if you're in pain. It was a long day and you've sat on the kitchen chair for more than an hour, it's no wonder that you're hurting.”

Dele stared at the box with a disgusted face, but he reached out for it with a defeated groan when Eric gave his expression a pleading touch. “Don't think that I don't know what you're doing, Eric!” he snapped helplessly when he took the glass of water Eric was offering him with a grin. “You're trying to rig me!”

“But it's working anyway,” Eric said, becoming serious again when he saw the hurt look on Dele's face. “I'm not a fan of painkillers either, Dele. But you look as if you really needed them tonight. Please do it for Harry. He's so worried about you, and I promised him that I wouldn't let you suffer.”

Dele sighed but swallowed the pill down without any further protest, and Eric switched off the lights and pushed the wheelchair through the corridor to help Dele with his bedtime routine. The sink in the bathroom for guests on the ground floor was low enough that Dele could brush his teeth without help, and Eric only needed to hand him the towel the soap.

They were both feeling a little bit awkward at first, especially by the thought of what would come next, as Harry had been the one helping Dele with the toilet before he'd left. “Can you help me taking the splint and my pants off, Eric? I can sit on the toilet and help myself with my shorts. That's how H and I have handled this, and it worked better than Mr. Smith's method.” Dele said when he was finished with washing his face, and Eric nodded gratefully. “Yes, of course, Dele.” he agreed, thinking it better not to ask him about Mr. Smith's special method because he had a pretty good idea that he most likely wouldn't like this method anyway.

He crouched down before Dele and fiddled with the splint and its fastenings, hoping that he didn't hurt Dele too much with his clumsiness. It would take him a few days until he knew how to handle the splint, but Dele didn't complain, and after one more try the splint came off and Eric could pull Dele's pants down and help him to sit on the toilet. Eric was acutely aware that this was another crucial moment for their working relationship because he could see Dele's injured leg for the first time now, and he kept his face straight and his movements professional, not even blinking when the bright bathroom lights fell onto the long red scars that crossed Dele's shinbone in several patterns from his ankle to his knee. He could feel Dele's intensive gaze on his bent head, and he looked up at him and met his shaded eyes openly before he wrapped his arms around his torso to lift him up and seat him on the toilet. Dele remained silent the entire time, but he relaxed visibly when Eric didn't flinch back from the sight of his leg, and he offered him a small pained but genuine smile.

“Thank you, Eric,” he murmured, his voice strained with pain and exhaustion.

“You're welcome, Dele. Call me when you're finished.” Eric left the bathroom feeling proud of himself that his first day with Dele had gone so well. He was tired and aching all over from the tension in his back and his shoulders he'd felt for hours, but Dele actually seemed to be willing to give him a chance, and this was much more than Eric could have hoped for after their first meeting in Dele's living room a couple of hours ago. He'd even successfully managed to show Dele that he accepted him the way he was, with his injured leg and his wheelchair, and Eric walked over to his own room because he didn't want Dele to think that he was lurking before the door to spy on him. Dele surely needed a moment to himself, and Eric was honest enough to admit that he needed a few minutes to himself as well.

So many things had happened today, and his mind was still racing and trying to process all the sudden and unexpected changes in his life. He had a job now and a good place to live and where he could hopefully focus on his thesis, but his job included much more responsibility than he'd first anticipated, and Eric felt overwhelmed and even a little bit scared that Dele and Harry were famous footballers and not just two young men and simple students like he was.

His smartphone lay forgotten on the bedside table, and he took it to scroll through his messages while he waited for Dele to call for him again.

There were a few messages from his best friend and flatmate Jan, and Eric sat down on his bed to read them and type back.

_'How's your search for a job going?'_ Jan had typed somewhere around noon. He'd been in the library when Eric had gone home to pack his stuff, and Eric had forgotten to send him a message, too overwhelmed by the prospect of his new job to think of anything else.

_'Hey, where are you?'_ was the next message, followed by _'Winks said something about Dele Alli!? Are we talking about **that** Dele Alli?!'_

Eric grinned when he read that because Jan and Winks were crazy about football, big Spurs fans, watching every game on TV because they didn't have enough money for the stadium as the poor students they all were.

_'Diet? Talk to me? Where the heck are you?'_ Jan's last message sounded really urgent and impatient, even worried, and Eric had a bad conscience that he hadn't even thought of telling Jan where he was.

_'Yeah, I'm at Dele Alli's place, and I'm fine, don't worry about me. I'm telling you everything when I come to get the rest of my stuff.'_ he quickly typed back, hoping that Jan would leave him be and not bombard him with more messages throughout the entire night. Jan preferred to learn at night and sleep in, and he was always the last one of the three of them to get up and join them in the large kitchen when it was already long past twelve.

Jan's answer came instantly, he'd probably been watching his phone for the entire evening. _'I can't believe it!!! want to know everything, don't keep me in suspense, diet!!'_

_'tomorrow, i promise. i'm tired and still busied. night, jan!'_ Eric wrote back, switching off his phone before Jan could ask any more questions. He shook his head with a smile, imaging Jan's face after the stunning news that his best friend had met Dele Alli in person. He'd really miss Jan and Harry Winks when they wouldn't be together any longer, but they hadn't found another affordable flat where they could all live, even thought they had searched for a new apartment for months, and Jan would move in with his girlfriend while Harry had found a room in another living community.

“Eric?” Dele's voice sounded muffled through the closed bathroom door, and Eric literally jumped to his feet to head back and help Dele getting ready for bed.

Dele looked even more tired than he'd looked a couple of minutes ago, his painkillers seemed to kick in, and he was heavy in Eric's arms when he lifted him back into his wheelchair. “Time for bed, someone's really sleepy!” Eric said with a chuckle, ignoring Dele's indignant look. As long as Dele was grumpy because of his teasing he wouldn't think about his leg and what it must look like to his new carer, and this was all Eric wanted tonight.

Dele let out a strangled groan of relief when he finally lay in his hospital bed, and Eric busied himself with stuffing the pillow under his head and pulling the blanket over him. “Do you need anything else? Some water or your phone?” he asked, but Dele shook his head. “No, I'm good. All I want to do is sleep,” he murmured, darting Eric a reproachful glance. “Harry and you made sure that I won't bother you tonight. These damn pills always knock me out.”

Eric swallowed, and he stroked over Dele's cool cheek before he could hold himself back. “You're not bothering me, Dele, not the least,” he gave back, but Dele turned his head away. “Yes, I know, it's your job to nurse me like a baby,” he whispered, his voice shallow and too quiet to sound hurt.

Eric had a lump in his throat, and he slowly drew his hand back, feeling helpless and insecure all of a sudden. “Yes, it is, Dele,” he said after a moment, “but that's not the only reason why I want to help you. You look like a great guy to me, and like someone I could like if we get to know each other better. That's why I want to help you.” He stared at Dele's dark curls on the pillow, chewing on his bottom lip when Dele didn't answer.

“I'll leave the door open. Please call me when you need something.”

“Hmm.” Dele moved his head in some kind of agreement, and his voice was small when he finally murmured: “Night, Eric.”

Eric suppressed a sigh and moved the wheelchair to the end of the bed. Then he walked over to the door and switched off the lights, throwing one last glance over his shoulder at the now dark figure under the white blanket. Dele hadn't moved, but Eric was sure that he wasn't sleeping but waiting for him to leave.

“Night, Dele,” he said before he slowly made his way back to his own room, suddenly feeling lonely in a way he couldn't quite explain.


	4. Let's take a shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric has spent his first night at Dele's place, and the next morning brings more tasks and challenges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts! :)

Eric was really tired, but his thoughts were still whirling in his mind, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep any time soon. He would have liked to play his guitar to calm down a bit, but it was his first night at Dele Alli's place, and he didn't want risk anything and piss his new boss off by waking him up with his music. Dele had problems with sleeping peacefully for an entire night anyway, and it wouldn't be a clever move to keep him awake when he'd taken his meds that would help him sleep and give him another reason to be mad at Eric and decide that he didn't want him as his nurse.

Eric had made the contract with Mrs. Miller as the assignee for Dele's club, but Dele was the one who'd decide whether or not he liked Eric as his new carer and wanted him to stay, so for Eric Dele was his boss, and not Tottenham or Mrs. Miller.

Wandering around in his new home wasn't an option either, as Eric still felt like a stranger and an intruder here and didn't want to spy on Dele when he was asleep and couldn't tell him to stay away from his stuff and which rooms he was allowed to explore for the time being.

Eric finally opted for working on his thesis until he would be tired enough to actually go to bed and try to sleep, because he suspected that he wouldn't have much time to do that over the next days as long as everything was still so new to both of them anyway.

He settled down for his task at the kitchen table with a mug of tea in front of him and started his laptop, his most precious possession except for his beloved guitar. Dele had given him access to his internet account earlier because Eric needed access to internet for his thesis and the needed research, apparently proving his willingness to trust him with that, and Eric had been grateful that Dele didn't seem to have any issues with that. He soon lost himself in his work, glad that he didn't need to worry about finding a job and a new place to live any longer but could finally concentrate on the important things like his master diploma and his music again.

Eric spent the next two hours with doing some research for his thesis and write several more paragraphs, and a satisfied smile lit up his face when he eventually switched his computer off and stretched to work the kinks out of his back. He walked over to the sink with his empty mug, deciding that filling it with water would be enough for tonight. He felt really sleepy now and was looking forward to testing his new bed and finding out if it was as comfortable as it actually looked like. He went through a quick bedtime routine and considered himself in the mirror for a minute, letting the day pass by before his mind's eye.

So many things had happened, too many to process them all, but Eric was positive that he and Dele would find a way to get along with each other, and this was all that mattered at the moment. He left the bath and unconsciously directed his steps at Dele's room. He'd left the door standing ajar earlier, and he quietly pushed it open now to take a look at Dele's dark figure under the white covers in the hospital bed. Eric could only see some dark curls and the silhouette of his shoulders under the blanket, and he cautiously entered the room fully, tiptoeing to the bed to gaze down at Dele.

Dele was sound asleep, but there was a tiny frown between his eyebrows right over his nose as if he was still in pain even when he was fast asleep, and Eric reached out with his hand to stroke over Dele's smooth skin before he could stop himself. Dele let out a small sigh at the touch, but he didn't wake up, and Eric slowly drew his hand back again, tucking the blanket firmly around Dele with a soft flutter in his stomach that he'd rather not explore further.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The bed in his new room was as comfortable as it looked like, but Eric hadn't slept much on his first night in Dele's house, too worked up and anxious to find some rest, and he was up early with the first grayish morning light to take a quick shower and get ready for the day.

He'd just dressed when he heard some noises coming from the other guestroom where Dele was still sleeping, and he straightened his shoulders and put on his most cheerful smile when he walked over to see what Dele needed. “Good morning, Dele!” he cheered, earning a grumpy rumble and an angry and reproachful look out of sleepy and heavy-lidded brown eyes. “mornin. 's still so early, how can you be so cheerful?” Dele chided him with a groan, pulling a face when he tried to turn around without thinking of his injured leg because of the pills he'd taken last night. Eric could see that the meds still weren't fully out of his system because Dele's gaze was dazed and a bit unfocused, and he hastily reached out to stop Dele from moving too fast until he was awake and clear enough to control his motions.

“That's because I've already taken a shower.” he explained, steadying Dele with one arm around his shoulder to help him sit up. Dele murmured something unintelligible, leaning heavily against Eric's side. He smelled of sleep and warm skin, and Eric's throat suddenly went dry. He concentrated on taking only shallow breaths, but the tingling in his belly simply wouldn't fade.

“Fucking pills,” Dele said a little bit louder with his nose on Eric's neck, “I feel like having a bad hangover.”

“You'll feel better after a shower and a proper breakfast with some coffee,” Eric consoled him, and Dele shot him an incredulous look. “You sure that you want to start your new job with giving me a shower? Mrs. Tumble and Mr. Smith always said that a cat bath with a washcloth was enough before my rehab. They only allowed me to shower twice a week, and they absolutely didn't like it.”

“I'm neither Mrs. Tumble, nor Mr. Smith,” Eric stated with a shrug, “and I can't see why helping you to take a shower should be more straining than washing you with a cloth from head to toe? I wouldn't want to miss my morning shower to start into the day. I'd just thought that it's the same for you.”

Dele looked to the side. “It was. Before my injury.”

“There's no open wound on your leg we needed to be careful with, so I don't see why taking a shower should be a problem.” Eric didn't know why he was so insistent, but he'd gotten the impression the previous day that everyone was wrapping Dele in cotton wool because of their own fears and doubts, and this was not what Dele needed.

Dele shrugged his shoulders with a snort. “If you say so. I need the bathroom anyway.” He shifted his weight in a rather obvious way, and Eric grinned. “I guessed. You have this special look on your face like someone needing to pee pretty bad.”

Eric ignored Dele's murderous glance and went to helping him in his wheelchair without further ado. “I don't like you,” Dele complained when Eric pushed the chair through the corridor. “You're a morning person, and I don't like morning people.”

“But I'm the only one not drowning your salad and food in dressing and sauce,” Eric said unfazed by Dele's grumpiness. “I can of course go to Mrs. Miller's office later and tell her that you'd rather have Mr. Smith and his oily fish back.”

“You're my nurse. You're supposed to be nice and caring and to fuss over me. You're not supposed to annoy me and just thwart my attempts to put you in your place, Dier!” Dele whined pathetically, and Eric felt the strong urge to ruffle his hair and hug him and tell him that he'd be fine again. He was glad that Dele couldn't see his face, and he gave his voice a light tone when he pushed the bathroom door open and maneuvered the wheelchair through the door frame.

“I am nice and caring and fussing over you, Dele. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have suggested a shower but would just take a washcloth to scrub your face as if you were a six-year-old boy.”

This silenced Dele effectively for a while, and he let Eric help him on the toilet without any other argument or protest. Eric waited outside again, going over his idea for the shower problem once more to make sure that it would work out the way he'd planned it.

The bathroom for the guests had a shower cubicle and a large tub with a rather broad rim where Dele could sit upon and lean against the tiles. Eric had the suspicion that Dele would feel much safer this way than he probably did when he had to sit on the small and unsteady stool in the shower cubicle. Dele's scared expression when he'd mentioned the shower hadn't been lost on Eric, and he was sure that he wouldn't feel safe sitting on that stool if he had a broken leg either.

“I'm finished.” Dele's voice sounded through the door, and Eric went back in with a confident smile on his face. “Well, now to the shower.”

Dele looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “You really want to pull that through,” he said, and Eric nodded with more confidence than he actually felt. “Yes, I do.” He moved the wheelchair to the side to have more room, taking up position before Dele. “Can you wrap your arms around my neck? It's only a few steps,” he said, bending forward, and Dele was too stunned to object and did as he'd been told, wrapping his arms around Eric's shoulders and interlacing his fingers behind his neck.

Eric lifted him up and slowly shuffled backwards to the tub. Dele followed with a surprised yelp when his leg almost gave up underneath him because of the unexpected weight it had to balance all of a sudden, and he stumbled and instinctively tightened his grip around Eric's neck. They stood like this for a few seconds, both breathing heavily because of the almost-crash, and Dele's scent filled Eric's nose again and increased the tingling in his belly because of their sudden closeness.

“The shower is on the other side,” Dele mumbled, sounding confused and a little bit hoarse, and Eric gritted his teeth and grabbed Dele by his hips to make him move again. “I know. I have something else in mind. Can you sit on the rim of the tub?”

Dele's eyebrow traveled upwards again, but complaining and walking at the same time was too straining for him and so he only nodded silently for a second time, slumping down on the broad rim with a relieved sigh when the weight was taken away from his injured leg again. Eric made a mental note to let Dele walk a few steps every day, something his former nurses apparently hadn't done. They'd most likely been too scared to challenge Dele like that, or perhaps they simply hadn't bothered enough to think about a way to speed up his recovery, Eric couldn't know that, but he thought it to be more likely after what Dele had told him about his former nurses. Maybe Dele had threatened them to fire them if they did something he didn't want to even just try, but Eric wouldn't just watch Dele ruining himself with his attitude of defiant hopelessness that things could ever become better again.

To his luck Dele was far too surprised to object against Eric's successful attempt to make him use his injured leg, and the prospect of taking a shower instead of being scrubbed with a cloth had clearly revived some of his spirits. Eric gently lifted his legs and swung them over the rim until they were in the tub.

“Sit over there and lean against the tiles, please,” Eric ordered him gently when he'd pulled Dele's shirt over his head, trying not to stare at the chiseled and worked-out sculpture of Dele's upper body. Dele was lean with long elegant limbs, and Eric reminded himself quickly that he'd better not look too closely at him because this could become pretty embarrassing for both of them. Eric's job was to take care of him and nurse him, not to seduce him and make a move on him just because Dele was so beautiful that Eric's imagination was running wild every time he had to touch him or caught his far too tempting scent.

Dele moved along the rim of the tub until he could lean against the tiles, his chest heaving from the effort. He shivered when his back came in contact with the still cold tiles, and Eric tugged at the waistband of his boxers to distract him from the momentary coldness. “We need to take these off,” he stated, thinking that being professional and practical would help best with the inevitable awkwardness they would go through at least during the first times Eric was helping Dele with his personal care.

Dele had been a footballer for years before he'd become injured, he'd surely showered together with his teammates and seen them naked on a regular basis. There was no need to fuss about this more than necessary, and Dele seemed to think much the same, because he lifted himself up and wriggled his hips to make it easier for Eric to pull his boxers down without any protest.

“So how do you want to do it?” Dele asked when he was finally naked, clearly referring to the shower, but Eric had a hard time keeping his face straight because Dele's words sounded far too ambiguous for his peace of mind.

“I'll help you with the water, but you should be able to wash yourself this way,” he murmured, hoping that the bathroom lights didn't shine on his red face too much. He turned away from the lamp, avoiding Dele's attentive gaze as he fiddled with the shower head.

“Have you never seen a naked man before, Eric?” Dele teased him, and Eric's blush increased to a bright shade of pink. It should be Dele feeling compromised and embarrassed because he was the one without clothes while Eric was dressed with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but he didn't look uncomfortable, and he actually grinned when Eric darted him a quick sidelong glance. “It should be you feeling embarrassed, not me. Of course I've seen other men naked before, that happens when you're sharing a flat with your two best friends. But I've never nursed someone and tried to help them taking a shower,” Eric murmured, and Dele chuckled truly amused.

“You'll get used to it. Just like I did.” Dele sounded resigned, and his face softened when he saw Eric's cheeks glowing deep red now, and his grin turned into a grateful smile. “You're doing great, Eric, and I have to thank you. You're right, I really prefer this solution over having to endure the scrubbing with a cloth from a nurse twice as old as me. It's much less awkward and awful.”

Eric returned the smile, and he relaxed and switched the water on, testing the temperature on the inside of his wrist. “That was the plan,” he said, and he did feel less awkward than he'd felt just a minute earlier. “Okay, I'll hold the shower head over you, you only have to tell me how you like the temperature. This way you'll have your hands free to wash yourself.”

Dele nodded eagerly, and Eric lifted his arm with the shower head over Dele, making sure that the water didn't make too much of a mess on the bathroom floor. It worked surprisingly well because of the broad rim of the tub, most of the water cascaded over Dele's head and into the tub instead of the floor tiles.

Dele closed his eyes and craned his head back to let the water run over his face with an expression of utter bliss on his face, and Eric caught himself staring with rapt admiration at him because it was the first time that Dele let his guard down in front of him completely.

Eric's arm hurt a little bit from being stretched like that and holding the shower head, but he could have stayed like this for much longer without complaining, happy to watch Dele enjoying his shower like a small child that had gotten his long-wished Christmas present. He turned his head to the side and averted his gaze to give Dele some privacy when he took the shower gel to wash himself, and his fingers itched with longing to be the one washing Dele's soft dark curls and massage the shampoo into his hair.

“That was awesome.” Dele still looked utterly happy when Eric moved the shower head to wash the foam from his body, and helping Dele to dry himself off with the warm towel felt almost natural after the successful shower.

“Can you sit here for a moment? I forgot to bring fresh clothes.” He asked, and Dele nodded and wrapped the towel around himself to keep warm. “Harry showed you where they are, didn't he?”

Eric nodded. “Yes, he did. Do you want something special?”

“My red hoodie. It's in the wardrobe.”

Eric nodded again and smiled. “Please don't move, I'll be back right away again. The floor is a little bit slippery.”

“I'm a reasonable adult, Eric,” Dele said with a pout, but his eyes wrinkled with the smile he was trying to hide.

“That's arguable.” Eric ducked away from Dele's playful slap, hurrying to leave the bathroom and get Dele's clothes. His idea with the shower had worked out nicely, now it was time for a proper breakfast and making sure that Dele would eat to have enough strength for his rehab. Harry Kane had promised to come over later and help Eric with his move while Dele was doing his exercises, and when this was done, then Eric could finally focus on his task to make Dele walk on his own two feet again.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Half an hour later, Eric and Dele were sitting at the kitchen table with their plates, mugs and bowls in front of them. Harry had told Eric that Dele tended to quit breakfast on a regular basis, and that he'd already done that before his injury, but Eric was determined to change that. Breakfast was important to have a good start into a straining working day, no matter which kind of work it was, and their shower adventure had left him feeling hungry and almost starved.

It seemed to be the same for Dele because he'd asked Eric almost shyly if he could help him with the preparations for their breakfast, humming to the radio while he'd filled two bowls with milk and cereals.

“Harry's coming over around half past eight,” Dele said with his mouth full with cereals, but Eric was too happy to see him eat with real appetite to chide him for speaking with his mouth full. “When's the car coming to pick you up?” he wanted to know, and Dele pulled a face and looked down at his bowl.

“At nine,” he mumbled, and Eric hesitated before he decided to push his luck. “Would you mind if I came with you one of the next days? I'm still uncertain how to handle the splint, and I'll have to learn what's good for your leg and what's not good and could hurt you anyway.”

“It'll be boring for you to watch the docs and therapists torturing me,” Dele warned him, definitely not keen to agree to Eric's request, but Eric didn't let himself be deterred away so easily. “I'm sure that I'll find your rehab interesting,” he stated with a smile, and Dele pursed his lips to another pout. Eric blinked in irritation that he couldn't tear his eyes away from Dele's mouth.

“Mr. Smith didn't.” Dele insisted.

“I'm not Mr. Smith.” Eric reminded him.

“Yeah, that's not to overlook. You're half as old and much more attractive than he was, Dier.”

Heat crept up into Eric's face, and he quickly lowered his head down on his plate. “Hu, thank you, I'm relieved to hear that.”

“You should be. There's hope left that I'll keep you.” Dele was blushing too, but maybe it was only the reddish morning sunlight falling through the window and shining onto Dele's softly rounded cheeks that gave his smooth skin an adorable shade of pink. “As my nurse, I mean.” Dele played with his spoon, keeping his eyes firmly on a spot on the table beside his bowl. “You're a morning person, that's speaking against you. But you promised not to drown my salad in dressing, and you didn't scrub my face with a washcloth, so that's two brownie points for you. And you promised me to play guitar for me, so I'll let you stay until after that anyway.”

The warmth rising in Eric's belly and his chest at the sight of a sheepish and uncertain Dele trying to weasel himself out of the hole he'd just dug felt suspiciously like tenderness.

“I'll do my best to collect more brownie points that are speaking for me, Dele,” he chuckled, leaning back in his chair to sip from his coffee and watch Dele empty his bowl, the pink glow on his cheeks still visible.

Dele smiled into his bowl when he felt Eric's gaze on his face, and Eric thought that there was no other place where he'd rather want to be in this moment.


	5. Eric's move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry helps Eric getting his things to move them to Dele's house, meeting his best friends Jan and Winks in the process.

“So what did you do with him?” Harry asked when Eric climbed into his car later. Eric avoided his questioning glance and busied himself with his seat belt, unsure what Harry was referring to and if he was approving or disapproving of what Eric had done in his opinion.

“What do you mean with 'what did I do with him'?” he asked when Harry didn't start the engine but just continued to scrutinize him.

“Dele hasn't been in such a bright mood for ages, Eric. He even smiled, and he didn't really complain about his rehab when they came to pick him up this morning. What did you do with him to make him change in just one day?”

Dele had been picked up for his rehab a couple of minutes ago, and he'd let Eric help him into his seat in the back of the van without arguing that everything was just a waste of time like he usually did every morning according to Harry's words. Eric couldn't know how these moments normally went, so he didn't have any comparison to go by with, and he'd just been glad that Dele had accepted his help and smiled at him before the van had left.

“Dunno. I didn't do anything special, just the usual stuff. I asked him to help me preparing our dinner yesterday after you'd gone, we had a salad with chicken. Then we cleaned the dishes together and I made him take his painkillers. He grumbled a bit but took them, and he slept peacefully all through the night. This morning I helped him to take a shower and we made breakfast together...” He couldn't finish his sentence because Harry interrupted him.

“You've already given him a shower?” he inquired with an incredulous look, and Eric shrugged his shoulder. “Where's the problem? Dele doesn't have an open wound on his leg we needed to be careful with, and a cat's bath with a washcloth can never live up to a proper morning shower, right?”

“Where the problem is?” Harry raised both eyebrows in astonishment. “Your predecessors outright refused to give him a shower more than only once a week. They said that it was too difficult and too straining for him, endangering his recovery. And Dele hates sitting on that ramshackle stool and therefore wasn't very keen of taking a shower either.”

“Yeah, that's why I didn't make him sit on that thing,” Eric replied with another shrug, trying to get a glimpse of Harry's thoughts as he finally returned his gaze. “So how did you give him a shower then?” Harry leaned back against the side window with one hand resting on his thigh and the other one supporting his head.

“I didn't give Dele a shower, he did the washing himself, I only held the shower head over him. I helped him sitting on the rim of the tub with his legs in the tub, it's broad enough to sit there much more comfortable than on that shaky stool in the small shower cubicle.”

Harry just stared quietly at him for several long seconds, and Eric already steeled himself to be told off for his careless demeanor, but then a huge smile spread across Harry's face, and Eric exhaled a deep breath he didn't know that he'd been holding it. “Oh, wow, I knew that you're the right one for him!” he exclaimed, and Eric felt a hot blush creep up into his cheeks at the ambiguity of this statement. Harry either didn't notice the double meaning, or he simply preferred to ignore it, giving Eric a thumbs up. “You really did something good here, thank you, Eric. I'd started to lose hope to ever see Dele like that again, with eyes that have won back some of their sparks.”

Eric chewed on his bottom lip to hide his embarrassment. He wasn't used to be praised like that, and surely not from such a famous person like Harry Kane actually was.

“I did nothing special, you know?” he said, trying to explain his intentions. “Dele's leg is injured and he's temporarily handicapped because of that, yes. But it's only his leg, not his back, his hands or arms or so. I just thought about what I would prefer if I was in his shoes, and I think that his biggest problem is boredom and the lack of perspective. He's not a baby or a cripple, and asking him to help with the preparations for our meals or giving him the chance to take care of himself will keep him distracted and his mind occupied. Would you want to just sit in a wheelchair the entire day, waiting for other people to do everything for you and literally wipe your arse?”

Harry's expression turned serious. “No, I wouldn't, Eric. You have a point here. I guess that we were all just too worried that we could hurt him or strain him too much, and instead of giving him the chance to tell us what he wants and help him to help himself we did everything for him to spare him. I guess that it needed an outsider to realize the truth and how to do it better.”

Eric nodded, trying not to pull a face at the word outsider. He knew that he didn't belong to Dele Alli's world, the world of football and fame, but hearing Harry saying it out loud hurt nevertheless.

“I didn't mean it like that, Eric. It's just that you didn't know Dele before yesterday. You weren't biased in any way, but simply did what you thought to be best for him, while we all were too afraid to demand anything from him because most of us are still seeing only the young and shy, helpless boy in him.”

Eric darted a quick glance at him, relaxing when he saw the sincere look on Harry's face. “Thank you. I want to do this right, you know?”

“You will, I'm not worried about that.” Harry finally started the engine, feeding his navigation system with Eric's address. They drove in silence, but it was the good kind of silence, and Eric thought that he and Harry could perhaps be real friends some day, even though their lives couldn't be much more different from each other than they actually were.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“I can't believe it! I can't fucking believe it! There's really Harry Kane standing in full height and person in our humble flat!” Jan was literally bouncing on his toes with excitement, and Eric rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Jan, will you please not act like a little child meeting Santa Claus for the first time?” he begged, but Jan just ignored him.

“Who wants Santa Claus when they can have Harry Kane instead?” he cried out, and Eric groaned at his friend's behavior, but Harry only laughed and winked at him. “'s okay, really, Eric,” he said, reaching out his hand to offer it to Jan and Winks, who'd just stormed out of his room when he'd heard the voices in the small hallway of the flat Eric shared with his two best friends.

Had shared, because today he would move to Dele's house for good, and Jan and Winks would leave the flat in two weeks as well.

Jan looked as if he was about to faint any second, grabbing Harry's hand and shaking it like crazy. “Jan, watch what you're doing!” Eric growled, feeling totally embarrassed and out of place, but Harry just laughed again and offered his hand to Winks as well. He took it, shaking it much more carefully and looking at Harry in awe. “We share the same name!” he exclaimed, “I'm Harry, but these two idiots here only call me Winks.”

“Hello Harry, nice to meet you,” Harry said with a grin, and Jan made a sound of triumph, waving at Eric to leave them alone with their hero. “Just go packing your stuff, Dier. We'll take good care of Harry as long as you're busied. And take your time, don't feel rushed,” he stated with a dismissive gesture. Eric rolled his eyes again, but he knew when he was defeated. “Call for me when they'll be getting on your nerves, Harry. They're big Spurs fans, and you're their special hero.”

“I'll be fine, don't worry,” Harry assured him, letting himself be pulled to the large kitchen, the center of the flat. Eric sighed and turned to his room to pack the rest of his clothes, books and stuff, marveling how much his life had changed within the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday he'd sat in Mrs. Miller's office around that time to ask for a job, and now he was Dele Alli's carer and the famous striker Harry Kane was sitting in his kitchen, probably answering to all of Jan and Winks' questions with utter patience and playing chauffeur for him and his boxes.

All of this seemed to be just a weird dream, and Eric pinched himself, pulling a face at the sharp ache shooting through his forearm. “You're definitely not dreaming, Eric Dier,” he murmured to himself, crouching down before one of the boxes he'd bought for his books to close the lid. “You're really nursing Dele Alli, and Harry Kane is really sitting in your kitchen, as unbelievable as it seems to be.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Harry was sitting on Eric's chair with a cup of tea standing in front of him when Eric was finished and came into the kitchen half an hour later, Jan and Winks hanging at his lips as he told them some funny stories about training.

“You're the luckiest guy on earth, Diet!” Jan complained when he saw Eric standing in the door way. “You got to see all the home games from the VIP stands.” Eric pulled a face at the prospect of having to watch football games on a regular basis in the future. “Really? Mhm, I have to learn the rules then, I guess.”

“A little bit more excitement, please!” Winks chided him, but Harry only chuckled. “Dele will teach you the rules, don't worry. Even though he refused to come to the stadium for the last matches.” He sounded worried and sad about that, and Eric thought that having to endure ninety minutes among football fans shouting like crazy at the weekends was a small price to pay if it meant that it helped Dele and Harry. It was probably too painful for Dele to watch his teammates from the stands without knowing if he was ever going to make a full recovery and be able to play himself again, but maybe this was the push Dele actually needed to pull his rehab through.

“I won't wear a scarf, a cap or a jersey, no way,” he said, and Jan rolled his eyes. “You can't go to the stadium not being dressed like a proper fan, Eric Dier,” he countered, but Eric just shrugged his shoulders, walking over to the cupboard to pour himself some of the tea that was left in the pot. “I'm not a proper fan, so I don't need to be dressed like one.”

“Just look at him, Harry, he's such an ungrateful lad! Going to watch the games from the VIP stands in the future, but not wanting to wear a scarf or a jersey with your name on the back.” Winks looked offended, and Harry winked at him. “You'll have to come with Dele and Eric then and make sure that Eric'll wear a jersey and a cap,” he suggested, and the silence following his words was almost deafening. Eric grinned to himself, lifting the cup to his mouth to hide his smug expression.

“What? What did you just say?” Jan finally croaked out when he'd recovered from his joyous shock.

Harry's grin widened. “I said that you two have to accompany him then to make sure that he's dressed like a proper Spurs fan for our home games. I'll see to getting tickets for you, that shouldn't be a problem. The club will be happy about anything that'll push Dele at least a little bit. We haven't given up hope that he'll be able to play again yet.”

Winks and Jan looked totally excited, but Jan's voice was serious when he said: “We'd be happy to be of help, Harry. Dele's such a talented and great player, it would be wonderful to see him play again.”

“Thank you, Jan, that means a lot. Eric can pass you the tickets, I'll talk to the gaffer later when I see him in training.” Harry took a look at his watch. “Sorry, friends, but we'll have to hurry a bit, Dele's coming back home soon, and we need to be there then. He's always tired after his rehab.”

“No problem.” Jan and Winks stood up without arguing. “We'll help you with the boxes, Dier.”

There were only few boxes and bags left, and it didn't take long to pack them into Harry's car. Eric had a lump in his throat when he hugged his friends and wished them goodbye, promising to visit them before they'd move out of the flat two weeks ahead.

“Call us if you need us, Eric.” Jan embraced him tightly, and Eric hugged him back, feeling a bit homesick all of a sudden. “Will do. Take care of yourself. We had a great time together, but I'm sure that your sweetheart will be happy having you all for herself in the future.”

Jan laughed. “We'll see, I'm sure that she'll keep me busied with cleaning and doing the laundry, but that's fine.” Jan patted his shoulder one last time before stepping back to give Winks the chance to hug Eric as well. Harry was leaning against his car and watching them, and Eric sensed that he was slowly getting anxious and impatient, but he said nothing, and Eric gave Winks a quick hug. “We'll have to go back to Dele. See you in a couple of days, and don't you dare buying a scarf for me!” he demanded, knowing his friend and that this would probably the first thing to do on Winks' list.

“Can't promise anything, Dier. Just see to Dele doing his rehab, and don't forget us.” Eric saw Harry sitting behind the wheel and starting the engine with a determined look in his eyes, and he pressed his friend close one last time, hoping that he'd made the right decision when he'd accepted the job as Dele's nurse.

“Never, Winks. How could I ever forget my best friends?” he mumbled as he let go of him to climb into Harry's car, waving at his friends standing in the driveway with a lump in his throat until they were finally out of sight.

 

~ ~ ~

 

They had just unpacked the car when the van with Dele turned into the driveway to stop near the entrance, and Eric hurried to help Dele from the backseat and into his wheelchair again. Dele looked pale and exhausted, and he was quiet and kept his eyes on his hands folded in his lap when Eric pushed the wheelchair to the front door. Harry was talking to the driver, shooting glances in Dele's direction, and Eric could see Dele's lips tightening every time he did.

“Would be sandwiches okay for lunch, Dele?” Eric asked to distract him from Harry, “I'll cook my famous tomato sauce for you for dinner tonight.”

Dele gave him a look. “Famous tomato sauce? You're not lacking self-confidence when it comes to your cooking skills, Dier, I have to say.”

“It's not wrong to have a proper self-confidence, at least not when it comes to such things. Besides, I need to prove to you that not all nurses are that bad at cooking. I'll go shopping tomorrow for the Portuguese dishes and the fish I promised you.”

“Sandwiches are fine, I'm not hungry anyway,” Dele shrugged, still staring down at his hands. Appetite comes with eating.” Eric wouldn't let Dele dwell in dark thoughts and self-pity. “Wash your hands, I need you to help me with the sandwiches.”

“Don't get bossy, Dier!” Dele grumbled, but he washed his hands and didn't object when Eric put the bread and the butter before him on the table. They were almost finished with the sandwiches when Harry joined them in the kitchen, sitting down on the chair between Eric and Dele. Eric offered him one of the plates, and Harry accepted it with a smile.

“Thanks.” Harry took a bite, and Eric wanted to pinch himself again. Here he sat having lunch with two well-known footballers as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Harry and Dele were just two young lads like him, eating sandwiches in the kitchen, and Eric thanked Mrs. Miller silently, because nursing Dele Alli was miles better than working in a diner or washing cars or something like that.

“You did good today,” Harry said to Dele, who cast his eyes down with a blush. “No, I didn't.”

“They said otherwise. They said that Poch came watching you today and that he was pleased with your performance today.” Harry looked at Dele, but Dele refused to meet his eyes. “Yeah, he did. For a few minutes. I'm hurting all over.”

“That's normal after rehab, I guess.” Eric joined in, biting down on his lip when he saw the look on Dele's face. “What do you know about rehab, Dier?” Dele shot back, and Eric stood up to carry the empty plates over to the sink and hide his hurt feelings from the two. “Nothing, you're right. I'm sorry, I promised you not to make comments about things I don't know anything about. I won't do that again.” Eric could feel Dele's eyes on his back, but he focused on his task of washing the dishes with a grim face.

There was a moment of awkward silence, but then Dele's sigh made its way to his ears. “No, I'm sorry, Eric. You're right, rehab has to be straining to work out. I'm just so tired, and I don't seem to make any progress at all. It's so frustrating. But I shouldn't take my anger out on you, that's not okay.”

Eric was surprised about Dele's honesty, and he turned his head to smile at him. “You really look tired, Dele. And please don't worry, a few grumpy words are nothing I couldn't take. What do you think about taking a nap while I'm unpacking my boxes? I could play the guitar for you after your nap if you'd like to.”

A small smile lit up on Dele's face. “That sounds great. I must admit that I really need to lie down for a while. And I absolutely want to hear you sing and play the guitar after that, I'm curious if your singing is as good as your cooking.” The eagerness in his voice made Eric blush and Harry chuckle.

“Great, I'm relieved to see that you two get along so well already, and that Eric is taking your moods and your grumpiness so well,” Harry remarked when Dele and Eric smiled sheepishly at each other after their almost quarrel. “I'll help you lying down so Eric can see to his stuff, okay? I have to go to training afterwards, but I'll come back tomorrow again, Del.”

Harry winked conspiratorially at Eric, pushing the wheelchair into the corridor, and Eric finished washing the dishes with a smile before he made his way to his room to unpack the boxes and make himself comfortable in his new home.


	6. Eric's idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric and Dele settle into a well-working routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year to all of you! :)

Eric had unpacked his things and brewed some tea by the time he heard Dele move around in his hospital bed, and he went over to the other guest room to help him getting up after his nap. Dele looked ruffled and still sleepily, but he hadn't forgotten that Eric had promised him to play the guitar and sing for him, and he was eager to get up and demand that Eric would keep his promise.

Eric went through the familiar moves of putting the splint where it belonged with ease now, looking up at Dele with pursed lips. “I've just made myself comfortable, Del. There's no way that I will pack my stuff and just leave again after singing for you!” he warned him, referring to what Dele had said about keeping him until Eric had proved his singing skills to him.

Dele grinned down at him, looking much more relaxed than Eric had ever seen him looking before. “That depends on how nice or awful your singing will be, Dier!” he threatened, but his eyes were sparkling, and Eric was too happy about this visible change in Dele's behavior to mind his skills being questioned like that in advance.

“Remember what will await you if you fire me and Mr. Smith comes back to torture you with his cooking 'skills',” was all he said, raising to his feet and ruffling Dele's hair a bit more before he even realized what he was doing. “Don't mess with my hair, Dier!” Dele complained, but Eric only laughed and pushed the wheelchair in the direction of the living room. “There's not much to mess with,” he said, earning a scowl from Dele, and he had to ruffle his hair right away again, just to get his point across.

“Do you want to sit on the couch?” he then asked when they reached the large room, and Dele looked at his couch with a slight frown. “Do you think that this will work with the splint?”

“Why not? We can at least give it a try, I guess. I can put a cushion under your foot.” Eric went to action before Dele could change his mind about that, and his heart missed a beat when Dele wrapped his arms around his neck and his lips brushed Eric's cheek by accident. He drew in a shaky breath and carefully lifted Dele out of the wheelchair to help him sitting down on the couch. Dele's breathing was a little bit uneven, and he avoided Eric's gaze when he shifted around on the couch until he had found a comfortable position. Eric took one of the cushions to put it under Dele's foot, crouching before the sofa awkwardly. “Is that okay?” he asked, wondering why his voice sounded so hoarse all of a sudden.

“Mhm, yes, thank you.” Dele chewed on his lips and stared at his hands in his lap. “Great. I'll get my guitar then.” Eric cleared his throat and stood up to go to his room and get his guitar from where it was sitting in one corner of the room in its guitar case. Dele was still looking at his hands when he came back, but he raised his head to watch Eric curiously when he pulled one of the chairs from the dining table to place it next to the sofa and sit down on it. It had been a couple of days since he'd last been able to play his guitar, and Eric spent a few minutes with tuning it again, touching the strings almost tenderly.

“Is there something special you want to hear, Del?” he inquired when he was content with the tuning, and Dele shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. Anything you're good at, I guess.” The almost kiss on Eric's cheek had made him crawl back into his shell, and Eric suppressed a sigh, thinking about what he wanted to sing for Dele for a moment.

“Alright, I'll go with some older rock and pop songs at first, then.” Eric started to play 'Yesterday' from the Beatles, his voice trembling a little bit when he started to sing the first tunes. It didn't take long though until he lost himself in his music, singing with 'Michelle' another song from the Beatles before he went over to other groups and songs. Eric darted quick glances at Dele now and then while he sang, and every time he did, Dele was looking at him with an expression of utter admiration. Eric bent his head down over his guitar to hide his happy smile, finishing his singing with 'Perfect' and 'Happier' from Ed Sheeran.

Eric's throat felt sore after singing one song after the other for more than an hour, but Dele's face had softened while he'd listened to him, he looked almost happy; and Eric thought that Dele's happiness was totally worth his slight discomfort and his strained voice. He stretched his back and his fingers to ease the cramps, gazing at Dele from the side.

“Do I still have my job?” he asked only half jokingly, because he couldn't help but feel nervous now. Dele blinked, and he gifted Eric with a happy smile. “That was wonderful!” he murmured, blinking again, “wow, I didn't think that you're that good. Have you ever written songs yourself, Eric?” Dele sounded serious and truly interested, and Eric blushed. “Yes, I've done that, but they weren't really good. Maybe I'll sing one of them to you one day. But not today, I need a break and something to drink.”

Dele nodded, bending forward to fill one of the mugs with the tea Eric had brewed, and he moved without thinking of his injured leg. Eric held his breath, carefully putting the guitar aside to accept the mug. Dele poured himself a cup as well, sipping from the still warm tea with a thoughtful expression. “I'm really impressed. I don't know what I expected, but surely not that you're a naturally born singer, Eric.”

Eric blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. I'm nothing special, I just like to sing and play the guitar,” he tried to play it down, but Dele shook his head with a determined look in his eyes. “You really should get a YouTube channel and upload your songs there,” he said, and the color in Eric's cheeks deepened.

“We'll see. I have to finish my thesis before I can think of anything else. Would you like to play something? A game perhaps?” he wanted to know in the attempt to distract Dele from his performance, and Dele promptly turned his head away. “I'm not in the mood for FIFA,” he snapped, and Eric flinched at the anger in his voice and the sudden mood change.

“Ehm, I didn't mean video games. I've played FIFA with Winks and Jan a few times, but I'm not good at that, and I actually thought of some board games like ludo or chess or anything like that. We could also play cards if you liked that better.”

“Board games?” Dele looked at Eric as if he'd never seen him before, but then he relaxed and nodded. “Why not, sounds like fun,” he agreed, not really sounding happy and eager, but Eric ignored his doubtful tone and just beamed at him. “Fine. Shall we use yours or mine?”

Dele just shrugged his shoulders, and Eric took his guitar and stood up. “I'll get mine then.” He brought the guitar back to his room to get the games instead. “It'll be more comfortable for you to sit at the dining table.” he said when he came back, scanning the distance between the couch and the dining table with his eyes. “You should be able to walk over there with my help.”

“I can't walk!” Dele objected with narrowed eyes, but Eric wouldn't let him weasel himself out this time. “Come on, Del. It's much more straining for you to get from the couch into your wheely and then from your wheely onto the chair. I'll support your weight, and I won't let you fall down, I promise you. I'm not a footballer, but I'm going to the gym on a regular basis, and I'm stronger than I look like.”

“Who do you think you are? My doctor? Don't think that I won't fire you just because you have a nice voice.”

Eric grinned at him. “You really think that I have a nice voice? Uh, Dele, not that you make me think that you could actually start to like me!” he teased him, and Dele scowled at him, but his face was burning, and he averted his eyes to hide his own grin. “You're not as bad as I thought you to be,” he admitted reluctantly with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “I'm glad to hear that. But your sudden willingness to make compliments won't make me change my mind about you walking those five steps to the table with my help.” Eric gave back, setting his jaw into a firm line of determination to show Dele that he was deadly serious about his wish that he would walk a few steps.

“I think I've changed my mind. I don't like you, and your voice is awful.” Dele crossed his arms before his chest, pursing his lips to a pout. Eric chuckled. “No, you can't take your words back just like that, Dele. Now stop pouting like a small child.”

Dele shot him a reproachful look, but he let Eric pull him up, wrapping his arm around his shoulders with a groan. Eric supported his weight with his arm around Dele's slim waist, pulling him close and taking Dele's hand on his shoulder in a firm grip. “I need a moment,” Dele brought out through gritted teeth, and Eric waited patiently until Dele's trembling faded a little bit. “You're doing great, Dele. Your splint will protect you, and you don't need to put your full weight on your left leg.” Eric made a small step forward, and Dele followed with a huff, shuffling towards the table with his uninjured leg.

“See, it's easier than you thought. Another one, just like that,” Eric encouraged him, and Dele dug his nails into his shoulder and tried to move, slowly making his way to the table with Eric's help. Dele was covered in sweat when he could finally grab the backrest of the chair, and they were both breathing heavily, but Eric didn't care, beaming proudly at him. “You made it, Del, you really made it!” he almost shouted, and Dele nodded with a breathless smile. “Yes, I did! I can't believe that you made me do that, but I really walked on my own two feet!”

“I told you that you could do that.” Eric pulled the chair in the right position, and Dele slumped down on it with a gasp of relief. “Fuck, I'm shaking.”

“I'll get you some water.” Eric almost sprinted to the kitchen, filling a glass with water and making his way back to the living room with the glass to watch Dele emptying it in three thirsty gulps. “Thank you.” Dele smiled at him. “I expect you to let me win for what you've just made me do,” he demanded with a grin, and Eric smiled back at him, thinking that he would gladly let Dele win if he only smiled at him like that again.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The rest of the afternoon went by with Eric and Dele playing ludo and uno, and he didn't have to ask Dele to help him with making dinner when the shadows grew longer and the late afternoon turned into early evening. Eric made the promised tomato sauce, and Dele ate with obvious delight, praising his spaghetti and his tomato sauce with a honest smile. He didn't object when Eric handed him the small box with his pills this time, and they went through Dele's bedtime routine with much more confidence and a lot of friendly teasing and bantering.

Dele's eyes fell shut the moment his head touched the pillow, and Eric gently pulled the blanket over his shoulders and watched him sleep for while before he returned to the kitchen to work on his thesis for two hours again.

He was tired in a good way, but he didn't feel like sleeping, and it was nice to sit at Dele's kitchen table with his laptop and search for the information he needed for his thesis. All in all he'd written more for it within the last two days than he'd managed to write over the past month, when his worries about his future had made it impossible for him to concentrate and come up with anything good and useful.

He switched his computer off and brushed his teeth three hours later, strolling back to the guest room that was his new home now. His eyes fell onto his guitar, and Eric bit down on his lip when he remembered Dele's question about his own songs. He hadn't written anything in a rather long time, but he suddenly felt like trying it again, and he took his guitar out of its case and went back to the dark living room where he wouldn't wake Dele up from his sleep with his playing because it was at the other end of the corridor.

Eric sat down on the chair by the glass door that led to the garden, touching the strings of his guitar almost questioningly, and the tunes of a new song came to him naturally and easily. He didn't even need to think about them, he only needed to let his thoughts run free to hear the music clearly in his mind. His fingers moved over the strings automatically, and Eric hummed the melody, his quiet humming turning into real words quickly. Eric closed his eyes, and a soft smile spread out on his face as he sang his song, thinking that meeting Dele Alli might be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

 

~ ~ ~

 

They settled into a nice and comfortable routine over the next couple of days. Dele was happy with his morning shower, and Eric coaxed him to try and walk again, from the bathroom door to the tub, from the sofa to the dining table, and from the wheelchair to his bed. Dele refused to walk outside the house, and Eric didn't argue with him about that, knowing that it was important for him not to expect too much of Dele at the beginning.

They spent the days with preparing their meals together and playing games, and Dele didn't even object any longer when Eric insisted on accompanying him to his rehab two times when he didn't need to attend his classes.

The therapist was a patient young man in his early thirties, giving Eric some good advice how to handle the splint and how to help Dele with his exercises at home, and he also thanked Eric for his good influence when Dele wasn't listening.

“I'm not sure how you did that, but he's made better progress within the last three days than he's made within the last three months,” Alex said to Eric, and Eric pursed his lips with a helpless shrug, watching Dele trading water in the pool with an expression of utter concentration on his face.

“Maybe it's because I didn't know him before I got the job, I don't know. I don't do much, I just ask him to help me with our meals and play games with him or read to him when he's too tired for playing and hurting. Sometimes I sing to him as well...”

Alex smiled at him. “Yes, Dele told me that you have a beautiful voice and that he loves listening to your singing and the books you're reading to him.”

Eric's heart fluttered in his chest. “Dele's a good listener, it's easy to sing or read to him,” he said thoughtfully, “I'm just happy that I can help him and make things a little bit easier for him.”

“You do, believe me.” Alex went back to the pool to go on with the rehab, and Eric watched them silently for the rest of the time, thinking about the idea that was poking him for days. Maybe it was still too early to try it, but Eric really thought that it would give Dele another push, and he couldn't stop thinking about his plan for the rest of the day.

“You're so quiet, Eric? Is something wrong with your family or with school?” Dele asked when they were sitting on the sofa after dinner to watch something on TV, and Eric flinched and glanced at Dele from the corner of his eye. He was nervous like hell, remembering what Harry had told him about Dele's stubbornness when it came to certain things. Harry had visited them every day, seeing to Dele when Eric needed to go to the university for his classes. He'd also told Eric to go to the gym again and not neglect his own business, and Eric had pushed himself harder than ever before for the idea that didn't leave him alone anymore.

He hadn't dared to tell Harry what he had in mind though, fearing that he would try to talk him out of his plan, and Eric really wanted to give it a try. Dele was taking his pills, and he never called for Eric during the night, but he didn't look well-rested when he woke up after eight hours of sleep either, and the thin lines around Dele's eyes spoke of pain and discomfort whenever Dele had spent an entire night in the hospital bed.

Eric had convinced him to nap on his comfortable couch after their lunch instead of using the bed, this way they also avoided having to use the wheelchair more than absolutely necessary, and it worked, but Dele couldn't sleep on the couch during the night.

“Eric? Is everything okay with you?” Dele sounded truly worried now, pulling Eric out of his thoughts with his question.

“Oh yes, thank you, I'm fine, Del. I'm just not in the mood for TV, I think. Do you want me to sing for you again?” Dele raised an eyebrow at him, seeing right through Eric's attempts to distract him, but he only nodded. “Yes, I would like that much better, Eric,” he said softly, and Eric was glad for the moment he needed to get his guitar, sensing Dele's eyes on his back when he went over to his room for the guitar. He shot a quick glance at the staircase that led upwards, measuring the distances and the stairs quickly. It should work, but Eric still dreaded Dele's reaction, and he suppressed a sigh and returned to the living room where Dele was still waiting for him.

Eric had worked on his special song last night again, but it wasn't finished, and Eric wasn't ready to sing it to anybody yet. Maybe he would never be, and it also depended on Dele's reaction when Eric told him about his idea later. Maybe he would simply throw him out of his house right away, but Eric really wanted to give it a try and tell Dele what he had in mind to make him feel better.

He sat down on his chair and cleared his throat, asking Dele what he wanted to hear. Dele was still watching him suspiciously, and he made a vague gesture. “Ed Sheeran perhaps? I liked your version of 'Happier',” he said, and Eric sang for him again, hoping that he wasn't about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

“I know that something's wrong, Eric,” Dele said when Eric had sung three more songs for him, taking a break to smear his throat with the tea he'd brewed after dinner. “Just spill it out.”

Eric took another sip to buy himself some time, wiping his damp hands on his jeans. “You're right, I was thinking about something. Every time I see you lying in this hospital bed, I can't help but think that you'd be much more comfortable in your own bedroom and bed,” he started, and Dele's face hardened instantly. He closed up, staring impassively at Eric, and Eric went silent, swallowing audibly.

“You forgot that there is only a minor problem, Dier,” Dele finally broke the heavy silence between them, emphasizing the word 'minor' mockingly. “My wheelchair is not made for staircases.”

Eric took a deep breath. He had started this, he would bring it to the end no matter the outcome. “I haven't forgotten the staircase, Dele. But there's a solution for that,” he said, and Dele looked actually furious now. “Harry talked to you!” he accused Eric, narrowing his eyes in anger. “I can't believe that he did that! He asked you to convince me to buy a stair lift, didn't he?”

Eric's next words would be crucial, and he knew that quite well. He looked Dele straight into his eyes, and he was grateful that he didn't need to lie, because Harry had not asked him to convince Dele to buy a stair lift, on the contrary, Harry had told him to forget that these two words even existed.

“No, Harry didn't ask me anything, Dele. A stair lift is not what I have in mind to make it possible for you to sleep in your own bed. A stair lift is for very old people, or for people with a permanent handicap, and I do believe that you'll climb these stairs on your own two feet again one day,” Eric said, holding Dele's gaze. “Maybe it's a bad idea, but I thought that I could carry you upstairs.”

Dele's mouth fell open, and he stared at Eric in confusion. “You want to carry me upstairs?” he asked incredulously, and Eric nodded. “Yes, on my back. I have younger siblings, I have carried them enough times to know how to do that. You're tall, but you're slim, and I'm lifting more than your weight in the gym. I'm stronger than I look like as I told you before, and I'm sure that I can carry you upstairs piggyback.”

Dele swallowed several times as he digested Eric's unexpected proposal, and Eric watched several emotions flicker over his face. He willed his own hands to stay relaxed not to damage his strings, and he waited for Dele's next words with his blood drumming in his ears. He'd probably just fucked it up completely and beyond repair, but he'd had to at least try it.

“You're serious about that, aren't you?” Dele stated after a little eternity, his voice more stunned than angry now, and Eric nodded almost grimly. “Yes, I am. The guest room is nice, but it's still just a room meant for your guests and not your own bedroom. And the hospital bed is simply awful. Taking a shower in your own bathroom would be easier too. Carrying your wheely upstairs isn't a problem at all when it's folded up. I promise you that I won't let you fall down and hurt you, and I won't mention it again if it doesn't work out the way I planned it. What do you think, Dele? Do you want to give it a try and sleep in your own bed again in the future?”


	7. It's the little things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric had another idea to make Dele's current life a little bit better, and now he has to prove to Dele that he didn't promise him too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be grateful for your comments. <3

Dele sat completely motionless like a lifeless statue for a while, and Eric didn't dare to move either.

His offer was actually just a small attempt to comfort Dele and give his new life a little bit of normalcy, but it was a huge step forward for Dele, and it pushed all of his boundaries, tugging at the walls the young footballer had built around himself after his horrible injury.

“Do you really think that you can carry me upstairs?” Dele's voice was barely more than a whisper, but it rang unnaturally loud in the living room after the long silence. “Yes, I do, Del. I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't think that it could actually work.” Eric couldn't be sure, but he had thought carefully and for days about this, knowing that it would crash Dele if he made a promise he couldn't keep. This here was too important to mess it up, and Eric knew that.

Dele gave him a tiny nod, chewing on his bottom lip. Eric couldn't avert his eyes from the sight, and he longed to reach out and stroke over the bitten flesh of his smooth lip, but he didn't dare to touch Dele after his quite earthshaking proposal.

“I... I think I want to give it a try. Sleeping in my own bed again after the long time I couldn't would be nice.”

Eric flinched, even though he'd hoped that Dele would want to do that and agree to his suggestion. “Really?” he croaked out, and Dele nodded again, his brown eyes big and dark and begging Eric to make this work out. Eric suddenly felt the weight of the entire world pressing down on his shoulders, but he willed himself to stay focused and calm.

“Alright, great. I'll carry your wheely upstairs at first, you'll need it for the bathroom.” he said, jumping to his feet to fold up Dele's wheelchair and carry it upstairs, carefully avoiding Dele's pleading gaze. His heart was drumming in his chest that loud that it drowned out every other sound, and Eric was out of breath when he reached Dele's bedroom and unfolded the wheelchair again next to Dele's bed, arresting the brakes to make sure that the vehicle wouldn't move and slip away when he lowered Dele down on the seat. Then he headed back downstairs, kneeling down before the couch where Dele was staring down at his splint with a miserable expression.

“I won't let you down, Del, I promise you,” he said, and Dele nodded for the third time, but he didn't look at Eric. “Yes, I know. You've kept all of your promises, so far,” he mumbled, and Eric balled his fists because he wanted to stroke Dele's pale cheek but didn't think that he was allowed to do that.

“I'll tell you what we'll do now,” he said instead of giving in to his urge and do something he'd surely regret afterwards. “I'll turn around now and take a hold on your thighs. You have to wrap your arms around my neck and not let go of me while I carry you, okay?”

“Yes, I know, Dier. My leg's injured, not my head. I know how being carried piggyback works,” Dele snapped, his voice trembling with the fear that Eric's idea wouldn't work out but just add to his hurt and misery. Eric didn't mind his anger, he even welcomed it because Dele being angry was much better than him just losing his faith in himself and in his hope that he would be able to walk and play football again one day.

“Okay, here we go. Let's try it.” Eric turned around until he crouched before the sofa with his back to Dele, pushing his arms under Dele's knees and slowly pulling him from the couch. Dele hesitated for a second before he wrapped his arms around Eric's neck, careful not to choke him even in his poor state. He was tensed and stiff with fear, and Eric took a deep breath, counting silently to three. Then he rose to his feet, Dele's front pressed tightly against his back. He swayed a little bit and Dele made a startled sound, his grip around Eric's shoulders tightening instinctively.

Then they stood, and Eric set off towards the corridor and the staircase when he'd found his balance and Dele stopped his wriggling, going motionless again. “You okay?” he asked through his teeth, and Dele made a sound that could be either agreement or disagreement, it was hard to tell. Eric decided for agreement and just went on. Dele was tall but slim, and Eric could carry him without problems, but he knew what would happen to Dele's leg if they stumbled and lost their balance, and Eric's fear that this could happen made Dele's weight feeling heavier than it actually was.

“Your leg okay?” he inquired when they reached the base of the stairs and Eric stopped to collect himself before he would climb the stairs with him. Dele lowered his head down on Eric's shoulder as if he couldn't stand the sight of the stairs, mumbling into the cotton of Eric's tee. “Bearable. Just move, will you?”

Eric began to climb the stairs, carefully one by one, concentrating on his task and blocking everything else out. The world could have crumbled around them and he wouldn't have noticed it, his thoughts directed on the next stair in front of him and nothing else. He didn't even feel Dele's weight anymore after the third stair, but he was painfully aware of Dele's warm breath against the damp skin of his throat, his lips brushing against his neck as they were moving in a silent murmur Eric couldn't hear. Dele's fingers were clutching the cotton of his t-shirt right over Eric's beating heart, and his body heat made sweat break out on Eric's back, Dele's scent strong in his nose and on his tongue.

Everything around him felt surreal and blurred, the stairs in front of him the only solid and clearly visible things in Eric's world. He climbed another one and the stair after that too, and he blinked in surprise when he realized that he was already standing in the corridor of the first floor, only three or four meters away from Dele's bedroom. He released the choked breath he hadn't realized that he'd been holding, filling his lungs with fresh air and bridging the last meters to Dele's wheelchair on wobbly feet.

Seating his precious cargo in the chair was ridiculously easy after climbing the stairs, even though Dele didn't do much to help him, shaking slightly from the roller coaster of emotions he'd just gone through and the effort of holding on to Eric with his arms for so long. Eric remained kneeling before the chair with his back turned to Dele for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath and stop his own whirling emotions with closed eyes. “That went well, didn't it?” He gave his voice a light tone when he stood on shaky legs to push Dele's wheelchair through his bedroom and into the adjoined bath. Dele just looked up at him with a small smile that showed his exhaustion. “Guess so,” he murmured, and they went through Dele's usual bedtime routine without any other word, both of them needing time to process what they'd just done. It didn't seem to be much, but for Dele it must actually be huge and even scary.

Eric pulled the blankets to the side when they were back in the bedroom, and Dele's arms around his neck felt so right and comforting when he lifted him out of his chair to help him sit on the edge of his bed. Dele stroked over the sheets and his pillow almost tentatively, just as if he didn't trust his eyes and feared to believe that he was really sitting here, on his own bed, in his own bedroom.

Eric sat beside him awkwardly, unsure what to do or say, whether he should stay or leave Dele alone for some time. “You really did that. You really carried me here. I can't believe that I will actually sleep in my own bed tonight,” Dele finally whispered, and Eric felt a lump in his throat at the broken sound of Dele's voice.

“No, we did that, Del. Together. I couldn't have done that without your help. It was you and me together,” he said, reaching out to gently squeeze Dele's fingers. Dele stared at their entangled fingers on his thigh, and Eric wasn't prepared for the tears that were suddenly streaming over Dele's face. “Do you really think so?” Dele croaked out before his sobs made it impossible for him to speak, and Eric nodded helplessly and simply disentangled their fingers to wrap his arm around Dele's shoulders instead and stroke his upper arm in a silent offer for comfort. Dele leaned heavily against his side while he wept, and Eric just let him cry and kept stroking his arm silently, grateful that Dele didn't send him away. He didn't dare to pull him in his lap and hold him tight, even though he longed to do that more than anything, but he was sure that Dele didn't want that and would push him away if he actually tried.

Eric didn't know how long they sat there like this, Dele crying on his shoulder and Eric stroking his arm, and he waited patiently until Dele's sobs faded and turned into quiet sniffles. “Thank you, Eric.”

Eric had to strain his ears to hear him, but he smiled and pulled him close for a second. “You're welcome, Del,” he gave back, and Dele inhaled shakily another breath. “I can't believe that you really did that. You didn't need to do that, you know. All of that, I mean. This here, you singing for me, playing with me for hours and this.” Dele made a vague gesture with his arm, and Eric squeezed his arm to make him turn his head and look at him. Dele's eyes were red and swollen, and he looked so young and vulnerable that Eric's heart was aching for him, but he returned Eric's gaze without any sign of shame.

“I want to do that, Dele. I know that you think that it's just my job, that I'm doing that because I need the money and the room, but that's not true. Yes, I was desperate to find a job and a new place to live, but to fulfill my duties, I wouldn't have to do more than your former nurses did, making sure that you're fed, clean and taken care of. I really care about you, Dele, and I want you to feel as happy and safe as possible given the circumstances. And if me singing for you and making it possible for you to sleep in your own bed helps you with feeling a little bit happier, then that's what's making me happy too. You're not just a job to me, Dele, I really hope that you know that by now.”

Dele swallowed, and he looked down at his lap again and reached out to interlace his fingers with the fingers of Eric's free hand. “Yes, I know, Eric. You're doing much more than what you'd need to do as my nurse, and I'm grateful for that and appreciate it. It's just hard for me to show you my gratitude sometimes, I'm not good at accepting help and showing my feelings,” he admitted honestly, and Eric stroked over the back of Dele's hand with his thumb.

“I know. It's okay, Del, really. You've gone through so much, and I can see how hard it is for you and that you're still so much in pain. I can't imagine how you must feel, and I'm just glad that I can help making everything a little bit easier for you,” Eric assured him, and Dele gifted him with a brief strained smile. “You do, Dier, really. Uhm, could I have a moment to myself, please?” he asked, and Eric knew that Dele was trying to put some distance between them again.

“Of course. I need to fetch your sleeping clothes anyway. I forgot them downstairs.” He hadn't really forgotten them, but Eric had suspected that Dele would need a moment alone to collect himself again at some point, and his seeming forgetfulness gave him the chance to grant Dele his request without one of them losing their faces. If Dele saw through him and his white lie to make this less awkward, then he didn't let it show. He just smiled again and buried his face in his hands with a sob when Eric got up to go downstairs and gather his sleeping clothes and a glass of water together with his pills.

Eric took his time and didn't hurry to come back to Dele to give him some privacy and time to win back his composure, and Dele's face was controlled again when he entered the bedroom with the things he carried in his hands. They didn't talk while Eric helped him into his shirts and his pajama pants, but Dele shook his head when he saw the box with the pills.

“I don't want them tonight. I want to try sleeping without these damn pills,” he objected, and Eric didn't argue his case, knowing that they were walking on thin ice after the last few days and everything that had happened. He'd pushed Dele to his limits and far beyond them since he'd become his nurse, and Dele had been willing to do almost everything of what Eric had wanted him to do much more often than Eric had expected it. If Dele wanted to go without painkillers in his first night sleeping in his own bed within months, then Eric wouldn't object against his understandable wish.

“I'll leave them on your bedside table, just in case that you'll need them somewhere during the night,” he suggested, and Dele nodded. “I won't, but thank you.” He sipped from the water and shifted several times to find a comfortable position when Eric supported his weight to help him lie down on the mattress. Eric took off the splint when Dele relaxed with a small sigh, putting it on the chest of drawers under the window, where it would be safe.

“How do you feel? Do you need a cushion under your leg?” he asked, pulling the blanket over Dele's slim body, and Dele closed his eyes with soft features that betrayed that he didn't feel any pain for the first time in ages. “I feel good, Eric, thank you. Sleeping in my own bed feels like heaven. I didn't know that I've felt like a stranger in my own house until now. This is so much better.”

“I thought so. I'll use the guest room next to yours to sleep there. Just call me if you need anything.”

Eric wanted to get up to leave Dele alone, but Dele surprised him when he grabbed his hand to keep him sitting beside him on the edge of his bed. “Can you please stay here for a bit longer, Eric?” he asked, his voice small and uncertain. “Just until I've fallen asleep? Please?”

Eric's throat tightened, and he sat down again, briefly stroking over Dele's cheek. “Sure, Delboy,” he whispered, the nickname he'd heard Harry using so often unconsciously slipping from his lips. He hadn't realized how much he'd longed to be allowed to use it as well until this moment, and he held his breath because he feared that he'd crossed a line, but Dele only smiled with closed eyes, keeping Eric's hand between his own.

“I like it when you call me that, Dier,” he murmured, his voice slurred with exhaustion, and Eric felt a stupid grin spread out on his face. “Goodnight, Delboy,” he said, just to be able to call him that again, and Dele sighed happily and turned on his side, pulling Eric's hand under his cheek to use it as a pillow.

“Night, Dier. Sometimes your ideas are not as awful as they seem to be at first sight,” he yawned with a snicker, and Eric chuckled too, thinking that this had to be the nicest compliment he'd actually ever gotten.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“You did WHAT?!” Harry asked disbelievingly when he visited them the next morning, staring back and forth between Dele and Eric sitting at the kitchen table for their breakfast. Eric had been too exhausted to work on his thesis last night and just gone to bed as well after watching Dele sleep for more than half an hour. He'd carefully pulled his hand away when he'd been sure that Dele was sound asleep and wouldn't wake up again, rushing through his own bedtime routine and curling himself up in the comfortable guest bed in the room next to Dele's. He would have to talk to Dele about perhaps moving to the guest room upstairs with his things, but this could wait for a couple of days, until they had settled in another routine and were sure that carrying Dele upstairs didn't do any damage to his healing injury.

Dele had slept without his pills for the whole night, and he'd looked well-rested and relaxed when Eric had come to wake him up. The shower cubicle in Dele's own bathroom was larger than the one in the downstairs bathroom, and Eric had suggested that he'd look for a bigger and stable stool for Dele to sit upon in the shower. This way Dele would be able to shower alone and without Eric's help. Dele's tub was large enough for him to shower the way they'd done it over the last week, but Eric found it important for Dele to do things on his own and have some privacy again. Dele had looked like a child under the Christmas tree at his suggestion, sensing that Eric didn't make this proposal because he was too lazy to see to his duties as his nurse, but simply to give him some of his dignity and old life back.

“I slept in my own bed, H!” Dele repeated excitedly with his mouth full, and all Harry could do was shake his head in astonishment and disbelief once more.

“And how did you do that? Your bedroom is upstairs, and I remember your reaction to me suggesting a stair lift quite well.”

“Who needs a damn stair lift for that?” Dele scowled darkly, his features softening again when he searched for Eric's gaze in reassurance. “Eric carried me upstairs.”

“He did what?!” Harry narrowed his eyes at Eric, and Eric hurried to assure him that he hadn't done any damage to Dele's leg. “I carried him upstairs on my back. Piggyback, you know? Don't worry, I took care of his leg, nothing happened to it. Carrying him this way is actually less straining for him than sitting in his wheely for hours.”

“I didn't even need to take my painkillers, Harry!” Dele added when he saw the look on his friend's face.

“Oh wow.” Harry leaned back in his chair, eyeing Eric with pursed lips. “You're not doing things halfheartedly, are you, Eric?”

Eric shrugged. “Would you feel comfortable in such a hospital bed, Harry?” he asked quietly, and Harry sighed and slumped his shoulders. “No, I wouldn't. I just don't want Del to get hurt.”

“I don't want Dele to get hurt either, Harry, believe me. There will be times when carrying him this way won't be possible for some reason, so it'll be a good thing to keep the hospital bed for a while longer, but it worked much better than I'd hoped that it would, so it's a nice option for the future, I guess.”

Harry regarded Eric for a moment or two, before turning his head to look at Dele. “I must admit that you look much better than you've looked in a long time. Eric's care's doing wonders to you.”

“Yes, it is. I'd felt like a stranger in my own house, Harry. Yesterday was the first day I didn't feel this way, thanks to Eric's idea,” Dele murmured, and Eric really wished that Harry wouldn't make such a big deal about it. The way Dele was treated by most of his friends and his family was what made him feel like a rare exhibit and uncomfortable in their company, although Eric of course knew that they only meant good and wanted what was best for Dele. But their worries about his state and their understandable but wrong attempts to do everything for him and treat him as though he was fragile was what made Dele crawl into his shell and keep his distance from them to protect himself. It was the seemingly little things like being able to sleep in his own bed or taking a shower on his own Dele needed not to feel like a helpless cripple the entire time, and Harry fussing about Eric's admittedly unusual ideas to give Dele some normalcy back didn't help matters.

Harry finally seemed to realize that too, because he blinked and shook his head, smiling fondly at Dele. “I'm happy for you, Delboy, you're really doing great. And so does Eric,” he said, “I was just surprised because I didn't think of this solution. That's because of Mrs. Tumble and Mr. Smith, I guess. The mere thought of one of them carrying you on their backs makes me shudder.”

“Me too, H, believe me!” Dele looked horrified at the image of Mr. Smith carrying him piggyback, and Eric felt a strange sting in his stomach at that image as well. A sting that felt suspiciously like jealousy, even though it was ridiculous to be jealous of Mrs. Tumble or Mr. Smith. But Eric didn't want anybody else to carry Dele and do the things for him Eric was doing, and this disturbed Eric much more than the thought of Mr. oily-fish-Smith carrying Dele actually disturbed him.

Eric had no right to be jealous of anybody and think that Dele was his in any way, and he'd better not forget that again if he didn't want get into trouble and have his heart broken. Dele would never feel more for him than gratitude and the usual obligation towards his new carer, perhaps even real friendship one day if Eric was lucky and didn't mess things up too badly, but that would be all that would ever be between them. Eric didn't belong to Dele's world, never would, and falling in love with him was really the worst thing Eric could do.

Eric dared a quick look at Dele's face over the table, and when he saw his glowing cheeks and his happy smile, he realized with dismay that it was already too late and that he'd just done that, falling in love with Dele Alli head over heels and without any chance to ever fall out of love with him again.


	8. Meeting the gaffer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric finally meets Dele's coach Pochettino during Dele's therapy session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback would be greatly appreciated. :)

“The gaffer wants to see you.” Harry said an hour later when they were both watching Dele doing his exercises.

Harry had accompanied them to the rehab center but then excused himself, murmuring something about wanting to talk to their coach, and Eric had been too occupied with his own thoughts to pay much attention to what the other one had said.

He was still struggling with the sudden realization that he'd fallen in love with Dele, and Harry's unexpected announcement about Dele's coach wanting to have a talk with him only added to the queasy feeling in his stomach. Alex was going through some special moves with Dele, and Eric kept watching them, glad that he had an excuse not to meet Harry's eyes.

Things had been tense between him and Harry since Dele's stunning news that he'd slept in his own bed last night, and Eric didn't know what to make out of Harry's behavior and the strange looks he was giving him.

“Really?” Eric darted his eyes to Harry before going back to watching Dele, who was bending and stretching his leg under Alex' attentive surveillance. “That's unexpected.”

Harry sat down on the bench next to Eric, resting his forearms on his thighs and interlacing his fingers in between his knees. “Not really. Poch wasn't really happy with Dele's first nurses, as you can imagine after what you've heard about them. He's taking great interest in Dele's well-being and his progress, just like he truly cares about all of us. He asked me about you the other day, and of course he noticed Dele's improvement since you started taking care of him like all of us did. Poch really wants to meet the guy who's achieved in a few days what others couldn't do within months.”

Eric shot Harry another suspicious look. “What have you told him, Harry? I'm not some kind of magician, I'm only trying to do my job and help Dele as best as I can do.”

Harry tilted his head to the side to return his gaze. “You're doing much more than your job, and you know that, Eric. I'd already lost hope to ever see Dele smile like he's been doing a lot of times lately, and I really didn't think that I would ever see him doing his exercises so eagerly and without complaining like he's doing them right now as we're watching him – as you're watching him. He always refused to do them when one of us wanted to join in and help him, and just look at the way he's seeking your attention and your approval that he's doing well. If I didn't know it better, then I'd think that he's actually jealous of me.”

Eric turned his head to follow Harry's gaze, and he smiled when he saw Dele watching him with a pout, his face red from the exertion of his exercises. It was obvious that Dele wasn't happy about Harry stealing Eric's attention from him, and Eric gave him a thumbs up and nodded encouragingly. “That's great, Delboy!” he shouted his praise across the large room, “you're already better than yesterday. Come on, do it five more times for me, then you'll have done twenty!”

“You've counted them, you really did! I'd thought you were too busied with chatting with H to count my moves!” Dele shouted back, shooting a victorious and smug glance at Harry.

“I'll never be too busied to count your moves, Del!” Eric said with a smile, and Dele lifted his chin up in determination and nodded at Alex that he wanted to do five more exercises. “You heard him, Alex, I want to do twenty for Eric today,” he demanded, and Alex nodded in astonishment and laid his hand under Dele's calf when Dele bent his leg again, pressing against it to make it harder for Dele to move and increase the effect of his exercises. Dele groaned but he didn't give up like he'd done so many times before, according to what Harry had told Eric on his first day as Dele's new nurse, and Harry pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at Eric. “See what I mean?” he asked, “if you're not a magician, then no one is, Eric.”

“That's at least what Harry told me.” A voice said coming from the door. Eric turned his head and almost jumped to his feet when he Harry and Dele's trainer standing behind them. “Good morning, sir,” he stammered, offering his hand to Pochettino with a faint blush. Pochettino took his right for a firm handshake, observing Eric curiously.

“Good morning, Eric,” he said with a brief smile. “It's hard to impress Harry, but you did, and I wanted to get to know the one who's able to do such miracles myself.”

“There are no miracles,” Eric objected, “I just want Dele to be happy.”

“We all want Dele to be happy, Eric. But you seem to be the only one actually knowing how to make him happy these days. That's the difference between you and the others, and that's a miracle in itself.” Pochettino looked thoughtfully. “Perhaps you'll even manage to make Dele watch our games again, it would be good for him and for the team. They're all missing him, but he's refused to come to our home matches so far.”

Eric had thought of that himself, but he'd decided that it was still too early to ask him that. He turned his head away from the coach, even though it was impolite, but Dele was his only concern, and he'd promised him that he'd never be too busied to count his moves, so he would do that, even if Dele's coach wanted to talk to him. Eric would keep the promises he gave Dele regardless of what others were thinking of him and his behavior.

Dele had begun another exercise during Eric's talk with his boss, but he hung his head down low and his expression was miserable. “A little bit higher, Delboy. I know you can do that, come on, show me!” Eric cried over to him, “do twenty for me again and I'll go swimming with you later. I brought my swimming trunks with me.”

Dele gave him a sidelong glance, ignoring his coach, and Eric really wished that Pochettino would leave them alone again because Dele looked distressed and unhappy since his coach had joined them and was talking to Eric. “I'm tired,” Dele whined, and Eric smiled at him. “I know, Del. Please try it for me. At least fifteen, if you can't do twenty.”

“You're really going swimming with me?” Dele made sure, and Eric nodded. “Promise. Alex said that it's okay with him. I actually wanted to surprise you, but if it's making you do these exercises for me, then it's worth it to tell you about my surprise now.”

“Okay,” Dele sighed. “But only fifteen. I'm really tired. And you have to watch me!”

Fifteen was more than Dele had ever done so far when it came to this special exercise. “That's fine with me, Delboy. You were great today. Fifteen will be more than enough to make me happy,” Eric agreed, because the lines around Dele's lips and his eyes were a clear sign that Dele was in pain and couldn't do more without risking new damage to his leg.

Dele gazed briefly at Pochettino, who was watching the scene silently, before he nodded at Alex and picked up his exercises where he'd stopped, and Eric kept his eyes on him to encourage him and show him that his efforts were the most important thing to him. His talk with Pochettino could wait, even if Eric risked that he'd earn the gaffer's disapproval with his impoliteness.

“I can see why you're making him happy while we all failed with our attempts to do that.” Pochettino didn't sound pissed off that Eric didn't focus his attention on him, and Eric relaxed a little bit. “I really want to talk to you, so please come to my office when you've fulfilled your promise. Harry will show you the way, and he can stay with Dele while we talk. It won't take that long.”

“Of course, sir,” Eric agreed reluctantly, and Pochettino patted his arm before he turned around to walk over to the exit, leaving Eric with very mixed feelings behind.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Half an hour later Eric was treading water beside Dele in the rehab pool, close enough that Dele could take a hold on him if he needed a break. Dele had done his fifteen exercises like he'd promised Eric, and Alex had praised him happily and volunteered to take a picture of Eric and him for the last one, asking Eric to take his place and press against Dele's leg.

He'd used Eric's phone for the picture, and Eric already knew that he would look at the photo many times from now on. Dele had asked Eric at least six times if he was going to keep his promise and swim with him after his therapy, and he'd been snappy whenever Harry had tried to talk to Eric, making Harry shake his head and roll his eyes in partly amused and partly annoyed exasperation.

“It's so much easier to move and walk in the pool. I think that I'll stay here and not leave this nice warm pool again,” Dele now said, looking exhausted and like the small boy he'd been not so long ago. “Why is it so much easier for me to move my leg here in the water, Eric?”

“The water's carrying your weight,” Eric explained patiently, pretty sure that Dele actually knew that and had just asked to make Eric look at him. “You'll be able to walk on solid ground again without pain or problems soon enough as well if you keep doing your exercises like you did today, Delboy.”

Dele lowered his head down, going still and almost slipping under the water surface with his head. Eric quickly wrapped his arm around his torso to keep him upright, and Dele leaned against him, exhaustion radiating from his slim frame. “I'm not sure that I want that, Eric,” he stated quietly, and Eric had to strain his ears to understand him. “If I can never play football again, then I don't need to be able to walk again anyway. I can always use an electric wheelchair when you'll finally grow tired of nursing me and move on then.”

“I'll never grow tired of nursing you, Dele,” Eric said with a lump in his throat, but Dele shook his head. “You're saying that now, Dier. You'll think about that differently when some months have passed. You will move on one day and leave me. Everyone does.”

“I can't look into the future, Del, that's true. I don't know what the future will bring for both of us, but I can tell you for sure that I'll never grow tired of wanting to be there for you if you need me. I really care about you, and this won't change, I know that.”

“So you like me?” Dele peered up at him, his normally shimmering smooth skin pale and greyish with fatigue.

Eric swallowed, trying hard to give his voice a light tone when he said: “Of course, I like you, Dele. You're my friend.” Dele was so much more to him than just a friend, but this was nothing Eric could tell him, at least not here and now.

“You're my friend too, Eric.” Dele had closed his eyes, his head resting heavily on Eric's shoulder, and Eric gently stroked his arm. “I want to take you to Portugal one day, Del. I want to show you where I lived when I was a boy. I'll take you there with your wheelchair too, but there are some of my favorite places I can't show you if you can't walk there, and I really want to show them to you. Do you think that you can do that for me, Del? Perhaps think about learning to walk on your two feet again, so I can show you my home?” Dele didn't open his eyes, but his expression changed, softening to something akin to happy wonder.

Harry was waving at him from the other side of the pool, probably because Pochettino was already waiting for Eric to come to him for their talk, but Eric ignored him, looking at Dele's tired and yet so beautiful face completely mesmerized.

Dele didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, but then he slowly opened his soft brown eyes to meet Eric's gaze. “You would do that? Show me your home, Eric? Take me with you to Portugal? Even if I'm still having to use a wheelchair then?” he wanted to know, and Eric could see fear in his eyes, the fear that Eric wasn't serious about that and had just said that to make him cooperate.

“I want to, and I will, Delboy, with your wheelchair or without it. It's your choice.” Eric had never been more serious about anything in his life. Dele looked thoughtful, chewing on his bottom lip, and Eric stared at the red spot where Dele's teeth worried the smooth flesh with a strange tingling in his stomach.

“I won't have any other choice than trying to learn how to walk again anyway,” Dele said after a while in a resigned voice, “I know what the gaffer and all the others expect from me. They're not doing this here for no reason.” Water was splashing when he raised his hand to gesture around, and Eric felt anger rising in his gut. Anger not aimed at Dele because he didn't want to walk again at all costs, but anger towards Dele's club because they had apparently never asked him what he really wanted and needed, but just loaded their own hopes and wishes upon him.

“Of course you have a choice, Del. It's your life, and you're the one having to live it. It's your choice whether or not you want to walk again, maybe even try to play football again one day, yours and only yours. No one can tell you what's best for you, only you can do that yourself. I do believe in you and your full recovery, but if you decide that you can't do or don't want to do that, then I'll support your decision and do my best to help you.” Erik sought Dele's eyes, hoping that he could see the truth about his words in his gaze. The thought of Dele sitting in a wheelchair for the rest of his life pained him, but it was upon Dele only to make this choice, and he needed to be able to do that without feeling pushed and pressed in any way.

“You really mean it, don't you, Eric?” Dele asked, and Eric nodded. “Yes, I do, Delboy. I'll be there for you, whatever your choice will be.”

A small cautious smile tugged at the corners of Dele's mouth, becoming wider until he was beaming all over his face. “I think I want to see the places you want to show me, Eric, so I should perhaps strain myself a little bit more in the future. I really want to walk on my own two feet again when we're visiting your home.”

“I know that you can do that, Del, and I will help you as best as I can.” Eric returned his smile happily, gently squeezing his shoulder. “What do you think, shall we swim five more laps together? Let's see who of us will be faster?”

The color was back in Dele's cheeks, and he nodded excitedly. “Yeah, let's swim. I bet that I can beat you, Dier!” he chuckled, pushing himself away from Eric and moving through the water with the elegance of a dolphin.

“You're cheating, Dele Alli!” Eric shouted, but with a huge grin on his face, and he made sure to stay a few meters behind Dele to let him win. This might be cheating just as much, but if it helped Dele to stay motivated and do his exercises, then Eric would happily let him win every time they were swimming after his therapy.

He'd been sure that only Dele's pain and frustration about his injury was keeping him from using his crutches and trying to learn to walk again, and seeing Dele swim like that proved his suspicion to be right, because he used his injured leg without even thinking of his injury, his only goal to beat Eric and win their little contest. It was easier in the water of course, but it was a clear sign that he was making good progress and that his muscles became stronger again after the long time they hadn't been used. It wouldn't take long until Eric could think of coaxing Dele into walking with crutches outside the house as well, and this was more than Eric could have hoped to achieve in the short time since he'd started his new job as Dele's nurse.

It was time to revive Dele's spirits again and give him something he could look forward to, and Eric thought that he'd just found the right motivation to do that. Going back to Portugal with Dele to show him his home was what Eric wanted to do more than anything, and he let out a loud cry and swam after him, the last missing words of his song for Dele suddenly clear in his mind to write them down later and finish his song.

Eric couldn't wait to sing his special song for Dele one day, and he really hoped that Dele would like it too.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Come in!”

Eric had hardly knocked at the office door when Pochettino already answered, and Eric straightened his shoulders and pushed the door handle down to open the door.

Dele had been cooperative and accepted Harry's company as long as Eric's talk with his boss would take, but he'd looked worried and asked Eric not to let him wait for too long because he was tired, which was obvious and more than understandable after the straining therapy session and their swimming contest. Dele had of course won, and not only because Eric hadn't really tried to win himself. Dele was a natural born swimmer, being completely in his element when he was in the swimming pool, just like a fish or a beautiful dolphin.

“Ah, Eric, wonderful. Please, have a seat!” Pochettino said with a smile when Eric entered his office fully, and Eric sat down on the chair before the large desk, feeling much less nervous than he'd feared that he would feel.

“Harry's been praising you all over the moon ever since your first day as Dele's new carer, Eric. I was suspicious at first, as you're rather young for such a responsible and difficult task, inexperienced and without any recommendation from a nursing service or so, but I have to admit that Harry's right. Dele's rehab has been progressing much better and faster within the last week than any of us could have expected after the last frustrating months, and that's all because of you.”

Eric felt himself blushing, but he kept his face calm and professional. “Thank you, sir. I'm treating Dele the way I would want to be treated if I were in his place, that's all.”

Pochettino observed him quietly. “I see. Your way of thinking is not the usual one I know from other nurses, but it might be just what Dele actually needed to find his faith in himself back.”

“I hope so, sir.” Eric was not willing to talk about Dele behind his back, even though his coach surely knew him much better than Eric could know him after one week.

“Anyway, you're having a good influence on Dele, and I hope that you can use your skills to do me a favor, Eric.”

Eric tensed up, and his expression became wary. “What kind of favor, sir?”

“I want you to convince Dele to come to our games again. It would mean a lot to his teammates, they don't understand why he doesn't want to see them or cheer them on. Harry asked for VIP tickets for your friends for the next home games, that would be a good opportunity to make Dele visit the stadium together with them, don't you think so?”

“I can ask him of course, but I won't push him, Mr. Pochettino. If he's still not ready for that, then I won't try to talk him into a stadium visit that would only lead to him crawling back into his shell again and refusing to work on his recovery. Not to mention the damage it would do to his trust in me.”

Pochettino looked disappointed, but Eric wouldn't risk damaging all the good things he and Dele had achieved together, and he wouldn't betray Dele's trust in him by conspiring with his boss behind his back.

“I'd hoped that you would see the importance of Dele finding his way back to us as quickly as possible, Eric,” Pochettino now said, leaning back in his chair. “You know that the club is paying your salary, don't you? You didn't make the contract with Dele, but with the club in his name.”

“Yes, I'm well aware of that, sir. But that won't keep me from doing what's best for Dele, even if this best for him is not what the club wants.” Eric looked Dele's coach straight in the eyes, and he didn't blink or flinch back.

The two so different men stared at each other for some time, and Eric almost startled when Pochettino suddenly began to laugh. “You're the right one for him, Eric, you really are. I had to try it, but I'm glad that you didn't give in. Okay, I'm not happy about that, but I'll leave it up to you to decide about the best time to approach this topic. Just promise me please that you'll at least try to talk to him about such a visit.”

“I will. Just like I'll inform him about our talk, sir.”

“I thought that you'd say that.” Pochettino nodded his head, but he didn't look angry, and Eric relaxed again. “As I said, I want to do what's best for Dele, sir. He trusts me, and I won't let him down.”

“Yes, that's obvious, Eric. I'm glad about that.” Pochettino stood and walked over to the door, and Eric followed his example and rose to his feet as well, grateful that their talk was over and he could go back to Dele.

Pochettino offered Eric his hand, smiling at him. “Please tell me your honest opinion, Eric. Do you think that Dele will be able to walk any time soon again? I know that you're not a therapist, but you're the one spending most of the day with him.”

Eric returned the firm handshake. “Physically? Yes, I think that this shouldn't be a problem. But he has to really want it himself. It's his decision to make. All we can do is support him and show him that we'll be there for him, no matter whether he's sitting in a wheelchair or walking on his feet.”

“I'll think of that, Eric,” Pochettino said, and Eric nodded and left his office, hurrying back to the changing room where Dele was waiting for him.


	9. Dele needs comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric and Dele come back home after the rehab, and Dele is grumpy and needs some comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait, the last weeks have been very busy. Please leave feedback for me, it would be very much appreciated! <3

“Are you hungry, Delboy?” Eric asked when they were finally back at home and he was pushing Dele's wheelchair through the front door and into the hallway.

“I am. But I'm too tired to eat, and I'm hurting all over,” Dele complained in a whiny voice. He'd been grumpy when Eric had finally returned to him after his talk with Pochettino, accusing Eric that he'd let him wait longer than necessary on purpose and snapping at Harry and telling him to leave him alone when his friend had wanted to help him getting more comfortable in his wheelchair.

Harry had been hurt and pissed off, and he hadn't really tried to hide his anger this time, leaving them without further ado and without a single glance back, mumbling something about going to see someone who'd appreciate his company instead of yelling at him. Eric understood Harry's frustration, but he didn't really mind Dele's grumpiness, sensing that it came from the pain Dele felt after his straining therapy and from the uncertainty he felt because of Eric's talk with his coach that seemed to worry him pretty much.

Eric was sure that neither Mrs. Tumble, nor Mr. Smith had ever shown any patience with Dele's antics and his moods, probably treating him like a small boy and telling him off for his defiance and his childish behavior whenever Dele had contradicted them and refused to cooperate in the way they'd expected him to do to make things easier for _them_ – not for himself. For Eric, Dele was just a very young man in great pain and full of fear that he would never recover from his injury and play football again, allowed to be grumpy and in a bad mood when he was suffering as much as he obviously did at the moment.

“I can imagine, Delboy,” he said gently, earning a disbelieving glance from Dele from over his shoulder and a mocking snort, but he only smiled back at him. “You did so great today, Del, I'm so proud of you. We could quit lunch and have an early dinner instead, what do you think? I'll help you lie down on the couch for a nap, you look as if you needed to rest for an hour or so.”

“But I'm hungry!” Dele whined unhappily, looking as if he wanted to stomp his foot like a small boy in his defiant phase.

“Of course, you are. No wonder after all the exercises you did for me.” Eric stopped the wheelchair to round it and crouch down before Dele. “Do you want to know what I have in mind?” he asked, because there was no way that he would just rule Dele' life and tell him what's best for him and what they were going to do. If Dele wanted to act like a small boy in his defiant phase and insist on Eric doing what he wanted him to do, then Eric would play along today and let him have his way this time, even if it wasn't the best for him. Eric trusted Dele enough not to do anything truly stupid that would put his health at risk, so there was no need for him to argue with him too much.

Dele pursed his lips to a pout, averting his eyes from Eric's face to show him that he was still angry with him. “Go ahead,” he demanded, still sounding pretty grumpy, but he couldn't hide his curiosity completely, and Eric suppressed a small smile.

“Okay. Here's what I would like to do today: I'll help you lie down on the couch with a cushion under your leg to ease your pain. Then I'll make you a big cup of hot chocolate. It's easy and quick to make and it will sate you for the time being. You burnt so much energy today that you could easily have three cups of chocolate without having to worry about your diet. If you're not too tired, you can eat a banana for the magnesium as well, this shouldn't be too difficult for you in a lying position. I can help you with the cup so you won't spill the chocolate. Then you can take a nap for two or three hours, and when you're well rested enough to pay attention and listen to me, I'll tell you about my talk with Mr. Pochettino - so you'll know what he told me, okay? I would tell you now, but you look pale with exhaustion and pain, and I want you to get comfortable as soon as possible. After our talk, we'll make pizza together. Today was a good day and demands a proper celebration, so having pizza would be nice, wouldn't it?”

Dele had listened quietly to him and with narrowed eyes at first, but his forehead smoothed out when Eric was finished with his little speech, and the deep gratitude showing in Dele's soft brown eyes made Eric's heart clench with another wave of love and tenderness. “You'll tell me what the gaffer wanted from you, Eric?”

“Of course, I'll do that, Delboy. We talked about you, so you have a right to know. And don't worry, I told him quite frankly that I would tell you everything he said to me, and he was actually fine with that. He really cares about you and only wants the best for you, Del.”

“I thought that you wouldn't do that, telling me about your talk, I mean,” Dele admitted sheepishly, “sorry that I was so grumpy.” He stared down at his hands in his lap, and Eric stroked his fingers in a brief tender gesture. “Please don't be sorry, Del. You had a very straining morning, and you did so well today, but I can see that you're hurting badly. You have every right to be exhausted and grumpy, but please, let me help you ease your pain and get you more comfortable.”

Dele nodded, peering at Eric from under his lashes. “I like your idea, Eric,” he said, “the hot chocolate and the banana you suggested. And I would really be grateful if I could lie down for a few hours before we'll make pizza and talk.”

Eric smiled at him. “Okay, let's get you on your couch then and make sure that you can enjoy your hot chocolate soon.”

They had gained a lot of practice over the last week, and Dele was soon lying on his couch with a light blanket covering him, a pillow under his head and a cushion under his leg to ease the pain, and Eric warmed milk up in a pot and added the cocoa powder to it until he was satisfied with the result, the rich color of the delicious beverage reminding Eric of Dele's beautiful soft brown eyes. He carried the pot and the cup over to the living room on a tray together with a banana, finding Dele already half asleep, but the latter blinked his eyes open again when he heard Eric's light footsteps on the floor, humming happily when he smelled the cocoa.

Eric sat down before the couch to support Dele's head while he drank, peeling the banana for him when Dele reached out for the yellow fruit. It didn't take long until Dele could rest his head on his pillow again with a happy sigh, and Eric put the tray aside and crossed his legs, looking up at Dele when he took Eric's hand to pull it under his cheek again. “Can you stay here for a while, Eric?” he asked, and Eric nodded with a smile. “Sure thing, Delboy.”

Dele returned the smile and made another small and happy sound, relaxing gratefully now that he was sure of Eric's full loyalty and attention again. Eric wanted to tell him that he didn't need to be jealous of anybody, but revealing his true feelings to Dele was definitely a bad idea, even more when he was in pain and too tired to fully understand what Eric was telling him. For now it had to be enough that Dele drew comfort out of using Eric's hand as a pillow, as this was already more than Eric could have expected when he'd sat in Mrs. Miller's office and she'd told him about the famous but injured young footballer Dele Alli for the first time.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Eric waited until Dele was sound asleep before he carefully pulled his hand away to get up from the floor and walk over to his own room, taking his laptop and his books back with him to the living room. He put another cushion on the floor before the couch and sat down again with crossed legs, arranging his books around him and balancing his laptop on his thighs. Dele was whining in his sleep and shifting, but he stopped when Eric placed his hand back where it had been under Dele's cheek, working on his thesis with the other one, turning the pages of his books now and then and typing on his keyboard one-handed. It was a bit tricky and took him longer than working with two free hands would have been, but Dele being able to rest and recover from his therapy properly was worth Eric's slight discomfort.

Dele sighed and slipped back into the deeper layers of sleep when Eric's hand was back where it belonged, pushing his nose against it as if he wanted to inhale Eric's scent. Eric regarded him tenderly for a moment, glad that he didn't need to hide his feelings for the other one for once.

He lost himself in his task until Dele finally stirred after three hours, yawning and rubbing his eyes with his fists, never letting go of Eric's hand as he did so. Eric chuckled, looking up from his computer, and Dele frowned, making a sound of surprise when he saw the laptop and the books. “What are you doing there, Dier?” he asked, and Eric chuckled again. “Using your nap to work on my thesis as it would seem, Delboy.”

“Oh. But that must be pretty uncomfortable for you! How long did I sleep?” Dele craned his neck to take a look at his watch, unwilling to let go of Eric's hand. Eric did the same, checking the clock hanging over the door. “Almost three hours, Del. But you needed your sleep, and I wanted to work on my thesis so I won't need to do that tonight.”

“You could have sat at the dining table for that, Eric. You really didn't need to sit before the couch for so long. How did you even manage to work like that?”

Eric smiled at him to ease Dele's bad conscience. “You started to move and thrash about when I pulled my hand away, so I thought that this would be the best solution. You'd asked me to stay with you, and you apparently needed me, so I stayed with you.”

Dele was silent for a minute, just looking at Eric in wonder. “Thank you, Eric,” he said at last, his voice quiet and hoarse, but Eric didn't need more words because he could see clearly the happiness in Dele's eyes that he hadn't left him alone.

“You're welcome, Delboy. I gave you a promise, and I always try to keep them. Do you need to use the restroom?”

“I don't want to, but I have to, I guess.” Dele sighed and struggled to sit up. Eric helped him to make sure that Dele would keep his balance until the usual dizziness after having been sound asleep not long before faded, putting the books and his computer onto the coffee table. “I bought the things we'll need for our pizza the other day when I couldn't accompany you to your therapy. Just let me put my stuff back in my room, then I'll help you.”

Dele nodded and Eric hurried to bring his books back to his room. He would most likely have to work for a few more hours tonight when Dele was sleeping, but Dele needed him now, and his studies could wait until Dele felt better again.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Do you want me to tell you about my talk with your coach now, Del?” Eric asked half an hour later when they were in the kitchen and preparing the pizza. Dele was chopping mushrooms and red pepper, while Eric was making the dough they needed for the pizza.

“Yes, please,” Dele said instantly, putting the knife down to look at Eric. He hadn't asked him about his talk with Pochettino so far, and Eric took that as a sign that Dele trusted him that Eric would keep his promise and tell him about the things the gaffer had said without him having to ask for it.

“Okay, then.” Eric kept looking back and forth between Dele and the dough he was kneading while he retold his conversation with Pochettino accurately, the gaffer's words still clear in his mind. “I promised him that I would ask you to think about how you'd feel about a stadium visit, but nothing more. I can see why it's important to him, but to me your wishes are the only things that matter, and if you're not ready for that, then I won't try to convince you or bother you about it until you'll say that you're ready, Delboy.”

Dele stared at the mushrooms in the bowl he'd chopped for a long time, and Eric feared for a moment that Dele was angry with him now, even though he was only the messenger and not the one who wanted to push Dele to a stadium visit any time soon.

“Your friends, do you miss them, Eric?” Dele's question confused Eric, because he hadn't expected Dele to ask him about Winks and Jan. He decided to be honest with Dele and tell him the truth, hoping that Dele wouldn't misinterpret his words. There was no other place where he'd rather wanted to be than here with Dele, but of course he thought back of the years he'd spent together with Jan and Winks, two of his best friends who really knew him and accepted him the way he was.

“Of course I miss Jan and Winks now and then. We've shared a flat for several years, and we had a lot of fun together. But I'm happy here with you, Dele. They're still my best friends, not seeing each other every day any longer won't change that.”

Dele smiled at him, a sweet, a little bit insecure but honest smile. “I believe you Eric. I don't think that you would do the things you're doing for me if you didn't like to be here. Hmm, I think I would like to meet your friends and get to know them, then I'll think about a stadium visit together with them. Harry told me that he promised them to see to tickets for our home games for them, and I don't want you having to disappoint your friends.”

“You don't need to do that for Jan and Winks, Delboy. They're huge football fans, and they are fans of you and admire you, but they wouldn't want you to do something you're not ready for, I know them well enough to be sure about that.”

“I still want to meet them. They are your friends, and I can see how much you miss them, Eric. It's difficult for you to go out and meet them anywhere else, so it's logical that they coming to you would be the best solution. It's been a long time since I met other people, so this could be a nice change.”

“If that's what you really want, Del.” Eric's heart was beating fast, and he could hardly trust his ears that he'd heard right.

“You like them, so they have to be nice, Eric,” Dele said simply, and his faith in him touched Eric deeply. “They are, Delboy, really,” he agreed, “I hope that you'll like them too. But what about your friends? Don't you want to spend some time with them as well? I'm sure that they miss you, and that they would be happy to see you.”

“I'm not sure, I don't want their pity, Eric.” Dele looked down at the bowl again, and Eric crossed the kitchen to sit down beside him and wrap his arm around his shoulder. “They are your friends, they don't pity you, I'm sure of that. But they must be hurt and confused that you refuse to see them. All they can do is rely on the things Harry tells them about you, I do believe that seeing for themselves that you're doing better would ease their minds. Harry told me that they're playing just for you, wanting to win to make you be proud of them.”

“I am proud of them. They're all great,” Dele whispered, and Eric struggled hard not just to kiss him on his cheek. “Then you should show them that you're proud of them and care about them, Delboy. You don't have to see all of them at once, but perhaps one or two?”

Eric hadn't meant their talk to take this turn, but he'd mused about gently nudging Dele in the right direction when it came to him seeing his own friends and teammates again for some time, and he was actually grateful that Dele had picked up on that topic in a way that allowed Eric to ask him about his teammates.

“I'll think about it, Eric, okay? Like in really thinking about it,” Dele said, sounding small, and this was more than Eric could have hoped for. “Deal,” he gave back, gently rubbing Dele's back before he could stop himself. “You could try to chat with them on the phone for the beginning, see with who of them you'll feel most comfortable for the start.”

Dele nodded. “I'll do that. And you can invite Jan and Winks somewhere next week,” he suggested, and Eric squeezed his arm. It felt so natural to touch Dele and be close to him, and Dele seemed to like their closeness as well, because he leaned against Eric's shoulder and let out a sigh of relief.

“What else did Poch say?” he wanted to know, and Eric absently stroked up and down on his arm. “He wanted to know what I think about your rehab and your progress, and I told him that it's up to you to decide what's best for you. That I believe that the chances that you'll learn how to walk again are good, but only if you really want that. I meant what I said, Del. I'll support you, no matter whether you'll be walking or sitting in your wheely next month, next year - or whensoever. It's your life, not his or mine, and it's your choice to make, not ours.”

“I don't think that he was happy about that,” Dele stated, but he sounded thoughtfully, not angry. “I'm not here to make him happy, Del, and I made that pretty clear, I hope. He actually thanked me at the end of our talk that I was loyal to you and didn't let him threaten me.”

“Oh.” Dele took the knife again, and Eric sensed that he needed some distance and time to think about everything he'd just told him, so he went back to his dough and the tomato sauce for their pizza. An hour later they could put the pizza in the oven, watching a comedy show on TV to pass the time until their dinner would be ready.

Dele was quiet and thoughtful for the rest of the evening, and Eric didn't push him, offering silent comfort by sitting next to him on the couch with his arm around Dele's shoulder. Dele wouldn't look at him, keeping his eyes on the TV screen, but he shifted closer until his head was resting on Eric's shoulder and their sides were pressed against each other.

Eric decided that it was time for bed when Dele's eyelids became heavy, chuckling about Dele's sleepy protest. He carried him upstairs like he'd done it last night, Dele's pliant body a warm and welcome weight against his back. They brushed their teeth side by side before the mirror, and Eric helped Dele in his own bed afterwards, suddenly sad that their quiet and peaceful evening was coming to an end. He sat down on the edge of the bed hoping that Dele would take his hand to use it as his personal pillow again, but Dele didn't reach out for it this time, blinking his eyes open with effort to look at him.

Eric felt disappointed, and he was about to wish him goodnight and stand up again, when Dele suddenly whispered:

“Would you mind sleeping next to me, Eric? Staying here with me, please? I don't want to be alone tonight.”


	10. Dele's accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dele asked Eric to stay with him because he doesn't want to sleep alone. Will this be a chance for Eric to come closer to Dele and learn more about him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with this chapter, I hope it's not too awful. Life is still keeping me busy, and I didn't want to let you wait for much longer. <3

Eric was too surprised to do more than just look down at Dele with a rather stupid expression on his face for a long moment, thinking that Dele couldn't have said what he seemed to have just asked for. It must be his ears playing tricks on him because he longed to be more than a friend and caregiver for Dele so very much, it simply couldn't be that Dele really wanted them to sleep in the same bed and maybe even cuddle together? Eric opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and he closed it again and swallowed, not knowing what to say at all.

Dele's face fell when Eric didn't respond and just kept gaping at him as if he'd grown a second head all of a sudden. “Never mind, just forget I was even asking,” he mumbled, turning his head away, and Eric realized with dismay that Dele hadt taken his silence the wrong way.

“No, I mean yes... of course I wouldn't mind sleeping next to you at all, Delboy,” he said softly, but Dele refused to look at him and shook his head. “It's okay, you don't need to be polite and spare my feelings, Eric. Please don't lie to me, I prefer honesty.” he murmured, and Eric swallowed audibly and very carefully put his hand on Dele's shoulder. “I'm not just trying to be polite, Delboy. If that's what you want, then I'd be happy to – huh – keep you company tonight,” he sought his way through this awkward talk, desperately searching for a way to convince Dele that he was serious and hadn't meant to hurt his feelings without revealing his own love for him too obviously.

Dele craned his head a little bit, just enough to peer at him with one eye. “Really? You're not lying?” he demanded to know, and Eric smiled at him, his fingers itching with the urge to ruffle his hair. “I would never lie to you, Del,” he said hoping that his voice didn't sound too hoarse, “I'm only worried about your leg. Are you sure that me sleeping next to you won't be too uncomfortable for you and do some serious damage to you? I can't control my motions when I'm sleeping, and I really don't want to hurt you, Delboy.”

Dele relaxed visibly when he saw the honest look on Eric's face and heard the sincerity in his voice. “I'm sure, Eric. I know that you won't hurt me,” he nodded, and Eric finally gave in to his urge and gently tousled Dele's short curls. “Alright then, but you have to promise me that you'll tell me if it's getting too much or too painful for you, okay?”

“I promise you, Eric,” Dele agreed quickly, and Eric's heartbeat sped up. “Okay, I'll be back right away, I just need to grab my sleeping clothes,” he murmured, feeling as nervous as if Dele had just asked him out for a date. _'He's only feeling lonely and wants some comfort, don't make the mistake and think too much into it, Eric Dier!'_ he told himself, but his stupid heart just wouldn't stop beating like crazy when he made his way to his own room to change into his sleeping shorts and his tee. Dele's wish had taken him by surprise, and he feared that he wouldn't be able to keep his calm but do something really stupid that would show Dele how he truly felt about him. Dele needed to focus his sole attention on his recovery, he didn't need his carer to put any expectations on him Dele couldn't comply with - and which he surely also never would want to fulfill either.

Eric waited for a moment as he tried to compose himself and suppress his confusion and excitement, and he drew in a deep breath and went back to Dele's room when he felt ready to face him again without letting the mask of professional calm slip from his face at any second. Dele was already half asleep when he entered the quiet and dark room, and Eric stopped before his bed and looked down at him, unsure what to do. He didn't want to disturb him because Dele really needed to sleep, but he wanted to keep his promise and not just sneak out again and leave him alone either.

“What are you waiting for? Just get your lazy arse in here!” Dele slurred without opening his eyes, and a small tender smile started to tug at the corners of Eric's lips. He climbed onto the bed doing his best not to push against Dele's leg, the sound of his heart hammering in his chest almost drowning out the rustling of the bed sheets and the blankets. Eric slipped beside Dele and lay down on the mattress behind him, hardly daring to breathe or to move closer. He didn't feel safe without leaving at least a small gap between them, but Dele made an annoyed sound in his throat and stretched his arm behind himself to pull Eric close to his own body until they were lying pressed against each other with Eric's chest resting against Dele's back.

Eric could smell the shampoo Dele used so close as they were, the scent of his warm skin, and he could feel the warmth radiating from him, seeping through his t-shirt and doing strange and embarrassing things to the lower parts of his body. He carefully and slowly moved his crotch away from Dele's butt, freezing in place when Dele shifted his weight and pulled Eric's arm tighter around his middle.

“Tell me something about Portugal,” he mumbled in that sleepy voice that made Eric want to kiss him so much that it was making his mind spin, and he had to swallow three times before his voice obeyed him at least partly.

“What do you want to know, Delboy?” he croaked out, and Dele shrugged, shifting closer to Eric with the motion. “Dunno? Anything you can tell me about it?” he sighed softly, “I just love listening to your voice, you know? It's so beautiful.” Dele wriggled closer to him with another sigh, and Eric's mouth went dry.

They were on pretty dangerous terrain, and Eric told himself strictly that Dele was half asleep and hurting from a straining day and therefore didn't pay attention to what he was saying or doing. It didn't mean what Eric wanted his words and his behavior to mean, and he'd better not make a complete fool of himself by hoping for something that would never happen. “Portugal is a beautiful country,” he said at last, when he trusted his voice enough not to reveal his longing for Dele too much. “The people living there are so friendly and kind, it's warm and sunny, and I love the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs and onto the sand...” his voice trailed off when a sudden bout of homesickness captured him, and he inhaled another shaky breath to compose himself.

Dele seemed to sense his mood change, because he entangled their fingers over his stomach in a small gesture of comfort. “Warm and sunny sounds beautiful,” he whispered, “I'd love to go there with you one day so you can show me your favorite places, Eric.”

“You'll love it. It's a beautiful place to live in.” Eric wanted to bury his nose in Dele's hair, but he didn't give in to his wish, only squeezed his fingers gently for a second. “It must be, you wouldn't love it so much if it wasn't,” Dele gave back, sounding more awake now, and Eric felt bad that he kept him from sleeping and getting the rest he needed after his exercises.

“England – London – is a good place to live as well,” he said, “it's different, but I feel at home here too.” Dele hummed to that, snuggling back against Eric's broad frame with a sigh. Eric could feel him relax as he slipped back into the state between sleep and consciousness, his slim body a welcome weight in Eric's arms. “Night, Delboy,” he whispered, and Dele let out a small happy and sleepy sound. “Night, Dier,” he murmured, his breathing slowing down when he finally succumbed to sleep.

Eric was still wide awake, but he felt content and happy just listening to Dele's even breaths and the quiet noises he was making in his dreams, thinking that there was no place in this world where he'd rather be than here in London with Dele sleeping in his arms like that.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Eric must have fallen asleep some time ago because he woke up with a start and feeling disorientated for a moment when Dele moved against him in his sleep. His arm was numb, but Dele didn't let go of it when Eric tried to pull it out of the tight grip of Dele's fingers without waking him up, and he gave up his useless attempts to find a better position and closed his eyes to go back to sleep, but without any success. He was painfully aware of Dele's warm body and the way it was snuggling against his own, his carefully suppressed longing for Dele rising to the surface and making him feel like being on fire. Dele luckily was oblivious to his struggles, still sound asleep and lost in his dreams, and Eric tried to think of something that would calm his libido down again, but all his far too vivid imagination came up with were pictures of Dele smiling at him and telling him that he'd fallen in love with him too – something that would never happen in reality of course.

Eric made another attempt to find a more comfortable position, and Dele let out a protesting whine and turned around in his sleep to use Eric's shoulder as a pillow and fling his own arm around his waist. Eric stared at the dark ceiling with a lump in his throat, and he couldn't resist the temptation to pull Dele nearer and wrap his arm around him. Only to keep him from trashing about of course as he told himself, but it felt so good to hold Dele this way, to be able to enjoy their closeness without having to fear that Dele would find out about his feelings for him and tell him to fuck off then. Dele's warm breath was ghosting over his neck, and Eric couldn't suppress a light shiver at the sensation. Dele mumbled something unintelligible against his skin, and Eric stroked his back soothingly when Dele started to move and wriggle, caught in a vivid dream.

“No, no, no! Ouch, it hurts so much!” he groaned, unconsciously kicking around with his injured leg. “No, don't touch, it's hurting!” Dele woke up with a gasp before Eric could react to his kicking, flinching away from the arm holding him. “Hush, it's me, Delboy, it's okay, it was just a dream!” Eric tried to soothe him, and Dele slumped down against him with a sob. Eric turned onto his side to look at him, worry written all over his face. “I'm sorry, Dele, I didn't mean to hurt you,” he said, feeling guilty although he'd only agreed to Dele's wish to stay with him.

“It's not your fault. The nightmares about that day just wouldn't leave me alone. They're coming and going, and there's nothing I can do against them. It's been a couple of days since the last one, I'd hoped that they were finally gone for good, but I was wrong with that.” Dele sighed, rubbing his cheek against Eric's shoulder like a small cat that needed comfort. “I see. Do you want to talk about it, Del?” Eric asked before he could stop himself, hoping that he hadn't crossed a line with his stupid question.

“I'm sure that Harry already told you what happened.” Dele sounded carefully controlled, and Eric shook his head, glad that he didn't need to lie about that. “No, he didn't. Mrs. Miller told me that you broke your ankle and your shin- and calfbone, but that's all. No one told me how it happened, and I didn't ask them about your accident either. I thought that you would rather tell me yourself what happend perhaps, and it's okay with me if you don't want that.”

“H didn't tell you?” Dele peered up at him, and Eric rubbed his upper arm and his shoulder. “No, he didn't. I guessed that he would've done that if it was important for my job, and I didn't want to be nosy. Maybe talking about your accident would help against your nightmares, I don't know, but if you don't want to tell me what happened, then that's okay with me, Delboy.”

Dele remained silent for so long that Eric already thought that he wouldn't answer, or that he'd perhaps even fallen asleep again, and he flinched in surprise when Dele cleared his throat, the sound unnatural loud in the dark and quite bedroom.

“It happened during training. We had a training game, and Harry and I were in the opposing teams. It was only a stupid training game, but I wanted the ball and shoot a goal at all costs, and I fought with Harry to get it and didn't pay attention to the ground. There was a hole hidden in the grass, small but pretty deep, and I stepped into it right when I'd just won the ball and nutmegged Harry. I stumbled and twisted my leg when I tried to pull it out of the hole again, but there was a root or one of my laces keeping me trapped in the hole. H tried to hold me upright and help me, but I lost my balance and there was a terrible cracking noise when I fell down on the ground and twisted my foot in the other direction. The next thing I know is that I was lying on the pitch screaming in pain and that my whole leg hurt like hell. I blacked out from the pain several times, and I don't remember much of the ride to the hospital or what came afterwards until I woke up in a hotel bed again after the first surgery they did right away. I was nauseous and everything hurt so much, and none of the doctors or nurses would tell me what happened and how bad it was before two days later.”

Dele's voice was shallow and very quiet, barely audible as he told Eric about his accident, and Eric hated himself that he'd brought up those painful memories again. He didn't know what to say, and so he just squeezed his arm and pressed his lips against Dele's curls, knowing that nothing he could say or do would ever be enough to take the pain away and comfort him.

Dele sighed and pillowed his head on Eric's shoulder, a soft groan making its way to Eric's ears when he tried to find a better position for his injured leg. “I can't help but think that H only keeps up with me because he has a bad conscience about what happened. It wasn't his fault though, only mine. If I hadn't been so stubborn, if only I'd paid better attention...” Dele went silent, and Eric wanted to cry at the lost expression on Dele's face he could see clearly despite the darkness.

“Harry cares deeply about you, Delboy. He really does. And it wasn't your fault. It was a terrible accident. Such things happen, and nobody is to blame for them. You're a professional footballer, of course you'd take a training game serious and want to be at your best. This is what the gaffer – what every trainer would expect from their players, right? That they're always giving their best, even if it's 'only' a training game. It wasn't your fault, and Harry cares that much about you because he loves you so much, not because his bad conscience makes him do that.”

“Do you really think so? That he likes me and that it wasn't my fault, I mean?” Dele sounded hopeful, but Eric could still hear the self-doubts and self-hatred he apparently felt because he'd secretly blamed himself for what had happened to him on that day.

“I know that, Delboy. Harry told me that you're like a beloved brother to him, and no one's blaming you for this horrible accident. They're worried about you and miss you, but none of them is thinking that it was your fault. Harry doesn't think that, and from what he told me about your teammates and friends I don't believe that they're holding you responsible for your injury, Dele. Is that why you didn't want to see them? Because you feared that they were blaming you?”

Dele shrugged. “Dunno. I think I simply didn't want them to just hang around because they pity me. I know how it goes, at first they're eager to see me, but when they realize that I'm a cripple now and will never play with them again their visits will become less and less, and after some time has passed they'll find more and more excuses why they're too busied to spend time with someone who can't even walk properly anymore. I guess I wanted to preempt them and end things my way. It's less hurtful if you're the one ending friendships instead of waiting for the others to do that.”

“That's not true, Dele. You're not a cripple, and you obviously never gave them a real chance to prove to you that they're true friends and not just pitying you. Don't give up on them like that, don't give up on you like that, Delboy. You're so much more than just two functioning legs!” Eric said urgently, his arm tightening around Dele's shoulder.

“I don't know what I am any longer,” Dele whispered against Eric's shoulder, his shaky breath sounding suspiciously like a sob. “All I ever wanted to be was a footballer, Eric. But the old Dele is gone, and I don't know the new Dele I've become and what I shall do with him. I don't know him, and I don't really like this new and so helpless Dele...” He buried his face on Eric's neck, his tears burning hot on Eric's skin. There didn't seem to be anything he could say to console Dele in his grief, and so he carded his fingers through Dele's curls in a steady and soothing rhythm instead, desperately searching for the right words to say to make Dele see the truth about himself.

“I've never got the chance to meet the old Dele,” Eric finally whispered around the lump in his throat, “the footballer and Dele you've been before your accident, I mean, but the Dele I got know is a wonderful person, kind, warmhearted and likable, and he's also a friend I wouldn't want to miss anymore for any price in this world. I'm convinced that your friends and teammates from the club are feeling the same way about you; and that they're missing you as much as I would miss you if you didn't want to see me any longer all of a sudden.”

Dele didn't answer to Eric's little speech, but his sobs faded to quiet sniffs, and he pushed his nose deeper into the warm crook where Eric's shoulder met his neck. His breathing slowed down, and Eric kept stroking his hair until Dele relaxed with a sigh and yawned into his now damp shirt.

“Thank you, Eric. Maybe you're right with what you said about them.” Dele murmured thoughtfully after several seconds with another heartfelt yawn, “I like you too, Dier, pretty much.” he then added almost shyly after another minute of now peaceful silence, eventually falling asleep again on Eric's shoulder and with his leg flung over Eric's knees. Eric needed much longer to go back to sleep, but when he finally did, he was still smiling happily about Dele's confession that he liked him.


End file.
